My roommate pinned me to the bed and started kissing me. The other one stood beside us, losing his mind. “You’re going to kiss his lips raw! When is it my turn?” 1 I was watching porn in my dorm room when my roommate caught me. My asshole roommate, Mark, started in with the snide comments. “So, you’re into guys, huh?” “Don’t tell me you’ve got a crush on me.” “The thought is seriously gross.” I shot back a cold smile. “Ever heard of a mirror? Or a puddle? Gay guys have standards, you know. If I were into anyone, it’d be someone like Evan. Who the hell are you?” The words had barely left my mouth when I saw him standing in the doorway, a faint blush on his cheeks. Evan. And right behind him, with a face as dark as a thundercloud, was Isaac. My heart dropped. It was bad enough that my crush had overheard my stupid outburst. But his number one admirer had heard it too. Only the idiot, Mark, was still clueless. “You, like Evan? The best you could hope for is to be his simp.” I fell silent. The word “simp” wasn’t just a dig at me; it was a dagger in someone else’s heart. I’d known Isaac was into Evan from the first day of school. They weren’t even in the same major, but Isaac was always orbiting Evan, hiding behind the flimsy excuse of being “just friends.” He was practically the tragic mascot of the friend zone. Sure enough, Isaac’s face was grim. “If you’re going to fight, take it outside.” Just then, the alarm I’d set for my part-time job went off. I scrambled to change and get out the door. As I was leaving, I heard Mark eagerly spilling my secrets to Isaac. “Hey, Isaac, did you know Leo’s gay? He likes men. It’s so disgusting.” Isaac kicked a chair, his voice a low growl. “Get lost.” 2 It was true. I was into Evan. He was gentle, thoughtful, and had a face that was both beautiful and sweet. A lot of people at school liked him. If it wasn’t for Isaac guarding him like a mother hen, he’d be drowning in admirers. Yesterday, I’d walked in on him changing. Not only was his skin pale and practically glowing, but he had a slim waist, long legs, and a perfect eight-pack. His face had already captured my heart, and it turned out his body was just as incredible. He was a literal god in the gay community. I’d spent the entire night fantasizing, and today, I just couldn’t hold back anymore and decided to find a video to watch. I’d finally found one with a pale-skinned guy who looked a little like Evan when Mark ripped open my bed curtain. I took out my frustration on the lemon in my cup, stabbing at it with my straw. And as I did, a horrifying thought occurred to me. My laptop on the bed… I don’t think I closed it. Then again, my sexuality was already out in the open. What was one little video? Besides, I was using headphones. As long as they didn’t pull back my curtain, they wouldn’t find out. 3 It was almost ten o’clock. I handed a taro milk tea to the girl in front of me. She took it, then looked at me shyly. “Hey, um… can I get your number?” On the outside, I was cool as a cucumber. Inside, I was beaming. See? I wasn’t half bad-looking. Mark should have been here to see this. The only problem was, I’m gay. Just as I was figuring out how to let her down gently, a dark voice came from behind her. “He’s gay.” …And just like that, I was outed to a complete stranger. The girl, far from being disappointed, actually seemed excited. She exchanged a look with her friend, and they walked off, clutching their milk teas like trophies. I stared at Isaac, completely baffled. What was his problem? He ordered a pearl milk tea and then stood to the side, watching me with a dark, menacing look. My coworker, a senior, gave me a mysterious smile. “Your boyfriend’s pretty possessive.” Oh no. It seemed they’d gotten the wrong idea. 4 After my shift, I walked out of the milk tea shop. Isaac followed behind me, nonchalantly sipping his drink. I stopped and turned to him. “Alright, what do you want?” The warm yellow light of the streetlamp illuminated his face. His features were sharp, his eyes a little severe. He looked fierce when he wasn’t smiling. He closed the distance between us, step by step. Then, a cold, sticky liquid drenched my hair, and a few boba pearls slid down my neck and into my shirt. He looked at me, his eyes like ice. “Keep your filthy thoughts to yourself. Evan is not for you to touch.” I wiped my face, unbothered, and fished a pearl out of my collar, shoving it into his mouth. “Who died and made you Batman? You follow Evan around all day. Aren’t you just as hungry for a piece of him? Besides, you’re the filthy one. You litter.” I pointed at the empty cup on the ground. Isaac froze, as if I’d thrown him off his rhythm. But he quickly recovered his menacing expression. He chewed. “If you dare harass Evan in the dorm…” He chewed some more. “Or watch any more of those disgusting videos…” His hand shot out, and I felt a sharp pain below my waist. Isaac kept chewing as he threatened, “I’ll chop this thing off.” I had to hand it to myself, the boba I made was perfectly chewy. Okay, so that’s what this was about. He’d seen what was on my laptop. But sneaking a peek behind my curtain without permission was pretty rude too. Suddenly, I heard a gasp. I turned to see a figure quickly running away. That wasn’t the main issue, though. Isaac’s hand was still… there. He awkwardly pulled his hand back, picked up the cup from the ground, shot me a glare, and stalked off. 5 When I got back to the dorm, Mark was gaming with his headphones on. I grabbed my toiletries and headed for the bathroom, running straight into Evan, who had just finished showering. I felt a little awkward, wondering if he’d seen the video. Did he think I was a pervert? Evan frowned at me, his gaze sweeping over my chest. I was too guilty to say hi and just ducked my head as I walked into the bathroom. The air was still steamy and fragrant, smelling just like him. I couldn’t help but take a deep breath as I peeled off my sticky white t-shirt. I’d just taken off my pants when the bathroom door opened. I turned to see Evan’s face. He was blushing. “Sorry, I forgot my clothes.” I followed his gaze to the laundry basket. Inside were the dirty clothes he’d just taken off. My heart felt like a shaken bottle of coke, fizzing with a sour feeling. “Evan,” I said, my voice muffled. “It’s true that I’m gay, and that I have a crush on you. But I’m not a pervert. I wouldn’t just take your things. You don’t have to guard them from me like I’m a thief.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes, looking away as he mumbled, “I’m not guarding them from you.” I laughed bitterly. I was just so tired. People’s prejudices were like an uncrossable chasm. Evan must think I was pathetic. I turned on the shower, and warm water streamed down. I let out a long breath. This damn life. I was basically the star of a tragedy. After the shower, I felt refreshed. If the world was going to make me gay, then I was going to turn the whole world into my personal club! I felt like I could start a new life… except, crap! I’d forgotten to bring clothes! I glanced at the laundry basket. It was empty. Okay, fine. I believed him. He really didn’t have a problem with me. He’d even taken my dirty clothes with him! 6 Before, I would’ve just walked out naked to get my clothes. But after today, I couldn’t. Mainly because of that idiot Mark. He’d probably think I was trying to seduce him. There were only three of us in the room. After a moment of hesitation, I decided to ask Evan for help. I called through the door, asking him to grab some clothes for me. He agreed good-naturedly, passing them through a crack in the door. Outside, I could hear Mark’s snide voice again. “You gays are so extra.” I rolled my eyes. I shook out the clothes and realized something was wrong. These looked like Evan’s. Evan’s gentle voice came from outside. “I didn’t want to go through your closet without permission. You can just wear mine. The underwear is new.” A wave of warmth washed over me. Evan really was an angel. So gentle and considerate. It would be a damn shame if Isaac got his hands on this pure soul. I quickly got dressed. Hmm. Evan looked tall and skinny, but his boxers weren’t small. I opened the bathroom door, then immediately wanted to shut it again. Did I get water in my brain while I was showering? Why was I seeing that walking disaster, Isaac, again? A hand pushed the door open. Isaac’s eyes were practically shooting fire. “Why are you wearing Evan’s clothes?!” I rolled my eyes at him. “He let me. What’s it to you?” I swaggered out of the bathroom and saw Evan on the balcony, hanging up clothes. “Ev—” I was about to ask him where my dirty clothes went when I saw the dripping white boxers in his hand. Evan looked at me, radiating an almost wifely glow. “It was no trouble. I just washed them all together.” Behind me, I could hear the sound of Isaac grinding his teeth. “Evan, you washed his underwear?” Evan looked innocent. “We’re all guys. What’s the big deal?” Isaac was furious. He glared at me. “Have you no shame?” Me? How was this my fault? Evan finished hanging the laundry and stepped in front of me protectively. “Isaac, stop picking on Leo.” Another wave of warmth. I couldn’t help but praise him. “See? You’re so gentle and reasonable. Not like some people, who are just like mad dogs.” Isaac shot me a death glare, looked at Evan, and then stormed out without another word. 7 I dried my hair and climbed into bed, only to see the empty bunk across from me piled high with stuff. The recently departed Isaac was back, and he was carrying a suitcase. He looked at me with a cold smile. “Starting today, I’m living in this dorm too.” I could feel the murderous intent behind that smile. This son of a bitch really thought Evan was his property. He was here to guard him from me? A competitive spark ignited within me. Fine. If that’s how he wanted to play it, I was going to make him watch. I pictured it in my head: me, driving a luxury car, with Evan leaning against my shoulder like a delicate bird. And Isaac, crying as he ran behind the car. “Evan, don’t leave with him! Evan, how will I live without you?” I almost laughed out loud, but a sharp crash echoed through the room. A glass had rolled off Evan’s bed, shattering on the floor. Isaac was the first to react. “Evan, are you okay?” “I’m fine. Just spilled some water.” Evan started to get down from his bed. Isaac quickly stopped him, grabbing a broom. “Wait there. I’ll sweep up the glass first.” Evan agreed, then pulled back his own bed curtain and swung his legs right over onto my bed. His voice was a little wounded. “Leo, my bed’s all wet. You don’t mind if I sleep with you, right?” The air in the room seemed to freeze. I almost burst out laughing. Isaac’s sweeping came to an abrupt halt. Even Mark shot Isaac a look of pity. No exaggeration, the guy looked like he was about to shatter into a million pieces. The broom was thrown aside with force. Isaac’s face had a greenish tint to it. “Evan, if you didn’t want me to move in, you didn’t have to resort to this.” My eyes darted between the two of them, and I finally understood. So they were having a fight, and I was just the pawn in their little game. Isaac stormed out of the room again, slamming the door behind him. I looked at Evan. He was smiling even more brightly now. For some reason, a chill ran down my spine. “He’s finally gone.”

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I’m a Beta. My secondary differentiation decided to hit right as I was about to fight my arch-nemesis in a back alley. “Get ready, grandpa’s about to fold you like a pretzel!” I threw a punch, but my legs gave out, and I collapsed right into his arms. My rival arched an eyebrow. “Oh? A new way to throw yourself at me?” Dammit! Before I could spit out a curse, the scent of mint wafting from him had me completely hooked. So good… so nice… so comforting… 1 I was a Beta. I never imagined that my body would choose a moment meant to display peak masculine prowess—a street fight—to undergo a secondary differentiation. The change sent me straight into a heat, my vision swimming and my legs turning to jelly. That’s why the punch I threw was pathetically weak, and I ended up tumbling right into Chris Fitch. Chris and I had been at each other’s throats all through high school. Whatever I wanted, he’d fight me for it, and after winning, he’d parade in front of me, gloating. I knew he just couldn’t stand me. This particular fight started because I’d sent a sexy, post-shower mirror selfie to my best friend, asking him to rate it. He took half an hour to reply. Not Human: I’d give it thirty… minutes. It took my brain two seconds to crash after seeing the contact name. I sent it to the wrong person! Realization dawned, and I let out a furious roar at my phone. “Chris Fitch! Go to hell!” He… he actually dared to get off to my picture! And that’s how we ended up in this alley. But of all the rotten luck… I had to go and differentiate! 2 The minty scent coming off Chris was so fresh, so intoxicating. The punch I’d thrown turned into a weak slap that landed on his shoulder. My body, acting on pure instinct, pressed closer against his. Chris stumbled back, and I pinned him against the wall. “What’s the plan today? A body slam?” He was a good half a head taller than me. He looked down, the playful mockery in his eyes undiminished. “You smell… so good…” I mumbled. Chris seemed to freeze for a second. “I thought you couldn’t smell pheromones?” My gland was burning, a throbbing, stinging heat at the back of my neck. The mint scent in the air was so alluring I couldn’t control myself. I was burning from head to toe, driven by instinct, his words not even registering. My hands roamed over his body as my nose desperately tried to pinpoint the source of the scent. I finally found it—the side of his neck—but a warm hand immediately pressed against my face, stopping me. Chris’s brow was furrowed, his voice serious. “Kai, are you having a secondary differentiation?” How would I know? All I knew was that Chris’s pheromones were incredible. They were cool and refreshing. Pressing against him felt like stepping into an air-conditioned room on a blistering summer day—soothing and comfortable. As a Beta, I’d never been able to smell his scent before. Now, my body was making up for lost time. “And yours is… honeysuckle,” Chris noted, tilting his head with a soft tsk. “Forget the fight. I’m taking you to the hospital.” Chris was being so loud, chattering on about something so trivial. Annoyed, I cupped his face and leaned in. As I moved closer, a single string of sanity vibrated in my mind. Dammit! Why am I feeling this desire?! This is my enemy! I’m going to get my ass kicked! But that sanity lasted all of thirty seconds before a devious piece of advice from my best friend flashed in my head. “The best way to deal with a rival is to kiss him. Just go for it. He’ll be too shocked to do anything in the moment. He’ll be embarrassed, disgusted, and he’ll never mess with you again.” At the time, I thought it was a terrible, self-destructive idea. Now? It seemed brilliant. What better time than the present? Besides, he was the one who got off to my picture… Desire shot through me like a rocket. Chris didn’t stop me, but the hand gripping my wrist tightened. Before I could register what happened next, the fever finally consumed me, and I blacked out. 3 I woke up in a hospital. Chris was taking a report from a doctor. “The test results are conclusive. It’s a small probability, but it happens. He’s differentiated into an Omega.” Who? Who were they talking about? My mind was foggy from sleep, and I couldn’t make sense of the situation. One, why was I in a hospital? Two, why was this bastard Chris here? Three, who the hell differentiated into an Omega? Then, the doctor’s eyes met mine. “The differentiation triggered an early heat. The fever will likely last a few more days, so take it easy.” “Who?” I stared at the doctor, my voice a croak of disbelief. A half-smile played on Chris’s lips as he walked over, ruffling my hair. “Stop petting me like a dog,” I snapped, swatting his hand away. Unfazed, Chris handed me the report. I stared at the words. Secondary Differentiation: Omega. I immediately fell back onto the bed. The doctor said a few more things, but I didn’t hear a word. My mind was reeling. I had gone from being a regular Beta to… fair game for any Alpha. Tragic. I caught a glimpse of Chris’s smirk and shot up from the bed. “Seen enough? Why don’t you get lost?” Chris straightened up, a faint smile on his lips. “We haven’t settled the score from last night.” He was right! Furious, I pointed a finger at him. “Have you no shame? How dare you get off to my—” He might be shameless, but I wasn’t. I couldn’t finish the sentence in front of the doctor. Chris gently pushed my hand down, rubbing his nose as he chuckled. “I was just messing with you.” “Liar!” “I was lying to you, yes.” Listen to him! Is that how a human being talks? Before I could curse him out again, Chris spoke up. “So, what about you leaning in to kiss me without a word? How do we settle that?” Holy hell! Th-that… wasn’t my fault, was it? I immediately turned to the doctor for help. The doctor cleared his throat, completely unfazed. “Don’t worry about it. It was a normal physiological reaction, given that your differentiation coincided with the onset of your heat.” “But that was my first kiss,” Chris sighed dramatically. So was mine! My eyes widened. Finally, I just gave up. “Then we’re even!” “I won’t press the issue about the picture.” Chris’s eyes darkened, but he said nothing. 4 A minute later, I begrudgingly accepted my new reality. I turned to Chris. “Can you get out? This whole room stinks of your mint.” Chris gave me a surprised look, then glanced at the doctor. “What?” I asked, confused. “His suppressant bracelet is on the highest setting. He should have almost no scent right now.” What! I was stunned. Did my nose break during the differentiation? The doctor thought for a moment. “It’s possible that because you were with him during the differentiation, your compatibility is very high. That would make you more sensitive to his pheromones.” Chris looked at me, and on the doctor’s advice, he stepped out of the room. The moment he was gone, the scent seemed to fade a little, and I frowned without realizing it. “What’s wrong?” the doctor asked, observing me. I touched my gland and shook my head. “Nothing.” The doctor continued with his instructions. “You need to rest for the next few days. Your heat isn’t over yet. And you’ll need to carry suppressants with you.” That was the first thing that got through to me. I looked up sharply. “How much are suppressants?” The doctor adjusted his glasses. “Your friend already paid for them.” I clenched my fists. Suppressants… another expense I’d have to budget for. “The suppressants…” I started, then hesitated. Chris came from a wealthy family. He would have paid for the good stuff, but I couldn’t afford that. I bit my lip and asked quietly, “Can you… switch them all for a cheaper brand?” The doctor blinked. “Those aren’t as effective, and the side effects are much worse.” I threw back the covers and got out of bed. “Please, just switch them for the cheaper ones. Thank you.” 5 The doctor was a good man. He exchanged the suppressants for me and refunded the difference. I walked back to my rented room, a bag of supplies in my hand, my mind racing. First, I had to pay Chris back. Then, I needed to find another part-time job. The monthly cost of suppressants was no small thing… As I reached my building, the stray dog I often fed came bounding towards me. “Buddy,” I said, squatting down to pet him. But he was frantic, nipping at my pant leg and pulling me toward the stairs. A knot of dread tightened in my stomach. I sprinted upstairs. The door to my room had been pried open. The inside was completely ransacked. I ran to my bed, dropped to my knees, and felt under the mattress for the cash I’d hidden. It was gone. “Woof! Woof!” Buddy barked from downstairs. A white-hot rage surged through me. I flew back down the stairs and ran towards my father’s house, Buddy at my heels. I kicked the door. “Open up!” No answer. I kicked it twice more. Knowing it was useless, I let out a bitter laugh and went to the woodshed next door, grabbing a rusty old meat cleaver. I brought it down on the door with a sickening thud. “Don’t make me say it a third time,” I snarled. “Open the door!” The door was opened by a drunk woman. The stench of alcohol was so strong I had to turn my head as I pushed past her. “Where’s Marcus Todd?” The woman, Rhonda, leaned against the doorframe, ready for a show. “Marcus! Your son’s here to see you!” The moment my father saw me, he started to tremble. “Give it back,” I said, my voice dangerously calm as I walked toward him. “Wh-what?” he feigned ignorance. “Don’t play dumb. My savings. The three hundred and fifty dollars.” He wouldn’t even look at me. “I don’t know…” “While I’m still willing to talk to you calmly…” I took a deep breath. “Give it back, and I’ll let it go.” I had saved that money for so long, working part-time jobs during breaks and sometimes even skipping class, all to escape this hellhole and focus on my final exams. I just needed to last a few more months. But of course, Marcus had taken it to pay off his gambling debts. He suddenly dropped to his knees, a mess of snot and tears. “It’s gone! I used it to pay them back…” Blood roared in my ears. The fury was about to burst from my chest. I lunged forward and punched him square in the face. He threw his arms up to block his face, whimpering, “Kai, you can’t do this… You have to let me live, Kai! I’ll pay you back…” “You really expect me to believe you?” I laughed humorlessly. “I’m your father!” “Not for a long time!” I punched him again, harder this time. “You stopped being my father when you tried to drown me at age three. When I grew up under your belt. We haven’t been father and son for years.” He was shaking violently. With a sudden burst of strength, he pushed me away, grabbed a stool, and held it in front of him like a shield. “Kai, please try to understand. I had no choice! They were going to kill me!” “Then you shouldn’t have fucking gambled!” I roared. “I… I’ve stopped… I just…” “Why should my tuition money pay for your gambling debts?!” “Because I’m your father!” he screamed back. “I had no choice! They were going to kill me!” “Then they can fucking kill me!” I shrieked, grabbing the cleaver and slamming it into the wooden table. The blade vibrated with a low hum, perfectly wedged in a crack. The room fell silent. As I walked out, I pointed at him. “Never again,” I warned. “Next time, I might just take one of your hands.” 6 I cleaned up my trashed room. Looking at the broken lock, I didn’t even have the energy to fix it. There was nothing left to steal, anyway. The most valuable thing I owned was already gone. I lay on my bed for a long time, utterly defeated. Then I rummaged through the bag of supplies and looked at the receipt for the suppressants. A heavy sigh escaped me. The next day, during gym class, I felt incredibly dizzy. It was supposed to be autumn, but the last couple of days had been stiflingly hot. During free time, I sat alone on the bleachers. My best friend, Leo, tossed me a bottle of water. He plopped down next to me. “Heard you and Chris went at it in the alley again. You never told me how it went.” Just the mention of it made my head ache. “Just shut up.” Leo was an Alpha, and a faint scent of rum drifted from him. I frowned slightly. “Have you been drinking?” “Are you running a fever?” Leo shook the bottle. “Pure mineral water.” “Then where’s that…” I trailed off, remembering the secondary differentiation. I hadn’t told anyone. No wonder I felt so hot and agitated. The doctor did say the heat would last a few days and that I needed to rest. “What?” Leo stared at me. “Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. I was starting to feel worse. “You don’t look well. Why is your face so red?” His scent was making me dizzier, hotter. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired.” Just as Leo was about to say something else, someone called him over to play basketball. As he stood up, he tossed his jacket over my head. Ugh, the smell. I was about to throw it off when someone else lifted it. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of mint drifted towards me. It was so good I instinctively took a deep breath, my body leaning forward. It was so comforting, instantly soothing the dizziness and the throbbing in my gland. My gaze fell on a pair of clean sneakers and the straight lines of two legs in school uniform trousers. I looked up. Our eyes met. Chris was looking down at me. “Why aren’t you home resting?” I frowned. “None of your business.” My mouth said one thing, but my body wanted to get closer to him. For once, Chris didn’t argue. “The doctor said your heat isn’t over yet, you need to—” I shot up, grabbing his hand and putting a finger to my lips. Seeing that no one was paying attention to us, I relaxed. The thought of my differentiation made me glance at him. I hadn’t had a chance to tell him to keep his mouth shut, but then again, he wasn’t the type to gossip. “What is it?” Chris asked. “Nothing.” I stood up to face him. “Kai.” I didn’t know what new game he was playing, so I ignored him and turned to leave. As I passed him, he spoke again, a soft chuckle in his voice. “Beg me.” I clenched my fists at my sides, then shrugged nonchalantly. “Do whatever you want.” I knew exactly what kind of person Chris Fitch was. “I’ll pay you back for the medical bills in a couple of days.” With that, I walked away, oblivious to the intense gaze that followed me. 7 This was no time to rest. I needed money for living expenses for the next six months, money to pay Chris back, and money for monthly suppressants. I found a night shift job at a newly opened restaurant. If I worked full-time, I could make over a thousand a month. I didn’t expect to run into Chris again. Actually, it wasn’t that surprising. Rich kids always had money to burn and were the first to know about any new spot in town. Our eyes met, and we both quickly looked away. Neither of us said hello. I avoided his gaze out of a sense of inferiority. He probably looked away because I was nothing special to him. I was supposed to serve his private room, but the manager suddenly switched me with someone else. “You just cover the main floor. Chen, you take the private room.” I gave him a questioning look. The manager explained, “Is young Mr. Fitch in that room a classmate of yours? He said you don’t need to serve them.” I let out a soft, bitter laugh and went downstairs. Chris was, in his own way, trying to protect my pride. But for someone as twisted up as me, that kind of consideration was worse than none at all. My post-differentiation heat was unstable, and the cheap suppressants only made it worse. As I worked, I started to feel sick again. I told a coworker my stomach was upset, grabbed a suppressant, and slipped into the restroom. Just as I was about to inject it, a hand with long, elegant fingers clamped around my wrist. I whipped my head around in shock. Chris’s brow was furrowed, his voice tight with displeasure. “Didn’t I buy you the good suppressants?” I ignored him, quickly injecting the needle before he could react. The sharp pain momentarily masked my discomfort. I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Kai,” Chris’s voice was low, laced with an unfamiliar anger. “Can’t you take better care of yourself?” I slapped his hand away, a self-deprecating smile on my face. “I’m poor, rich boy.” Chris’s eyes darkened, his expression unreadable. “What’s with that look?” I scoffed. “Pity?” “I…” “I have to get back to work.” I tried to step around him. But he grabbed my hand again. “You can’t keep working like this. The side effects of those cheap suppressants are too strong. And if you’re hiding in here to take them, you obviously haven’t told your manager about your condition.” I turned to glare at him. “What? Are you threatening me? Or do you want me to beg you again? There’s no point in teasing someone like me. I’m always just a pathetic mess in front of you…” When he didn’t speak, I laughed bitterly. “Stop messing around. I have to work. Every minute is money. Unlike you, born with a silver spoon in your mouth. So go ahead and beg—” “I’m begging you.” The hand on my wrist tightened. Chris’s throat worked, his voice a low, rough thing. “I’m begging you.” Before I could understand what he meant, a warm bracelet was snapped onto my wrist, still holding his body heat. “I know you won’t go home and rest, and getting new suppressants would take too long. A suppressant bracelet will be much more effective,” Chris said softly, letting go of my wrist once it was secure. I was stunned. “You…” “Go on.” Chris instantly reverted to his usual careless demeanor, even playfully ruffling my hair. “Tsk.” I shook my head, annoyed. “It’s a mess, like a dog’s fur,” he laughed, then turned and walked out the door. He paused and looked back. “And if you think this is teasing, there’s plenty more where that came from.” I stared at his straight back for a long time before my gaze fell to the bracelet on my wrist. His smile and his words sent ripples across the stagnant pool of my heart. It took me a long moment to pull myself together and return to work.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393895”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

In my freshman year, the most respected woman in the city’s high society suddenly offered to sponsor me. Just as I was about to reach for her delicate, fair hand, a series of comments popped up in my vision, like a live social media feed. [This pathetic side character thinks he’s found his savior, but the female lead is just pissed at her nephew and decided to sponsor a male student to spite him. He’s handsome and an orphan, so he’s the perfect pawn.] [He’s going to be kicked out soon anyway. The male lead’s older brother is already on his way to a pet store to buy their aunt her favorite kind of cat to cheer her up!] [A big reason the female lead likes the male lead is because of his cat-like features. Who would’ve thought that under that calm, self-possessed exterior, she’s a total cat fanatic!] … “If you’re willing, sign the contract.” The woman’s cool, detached voice pulled me back from the scrolling comments. I looked down at the contract, at the three hundred thousand dollars per year she was offering. I fought to suppress the cat ears that were threatening to pop out from my hair in my excitement. My eyes shining, I nodded eagerly. “Yes! I’m willing!” 1 My ears were misbehaving, twitching just beneath my scalp, desperate to spring free. It was an itchy, annoying sensation, but I forced myself to hold still. I couldn’t scare off this kind woman who was willing to help me. Once I had them under control, I quickly picked up the pen and signed my name. “Is there anything else I need to do?” The comments had mentioned that Ms. Sterling was only sponsoring me to make her nephew jealous. What was my role in all this? Her expression was cold and distant. Her gaze swept disdainfully over the peeling, green-tinged walls of my tiny apartment and the faded t-shirt I was wearing. Finally, her eyes, cool and emotionless, landed on my thin face. “First, get a new set of clothes. Tomorrow, you’ll move into the Sterling villa.” I nodded obediently and followed her assistant out to go shopping, planning to study the comments and learn how to be a proper “villainous side character.” But they all said I was just a disposable pawn in the main couple’s drama. They said I’d be dropped before I even set foot in the Sterling house, as soon as the main couple made up. But if she withdrew her sponsorship… I’d go hungry. I wouldn’t even be able to afford dried fish. To protect this hard-won opportunity, I gathered my courage, ditched the assistant, and yanked open the door of the departing Porsche, sliding into the back seat just before it pulled away. I met the cold, hard eyes of Elizabeth Sterling, framed by her gold-rimmed glasses. I nervously twisted the hem of my shirt. “I heard there’s going to be a thunderstorm tonight,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “I… I’m really scared of thunder. Auntie, can I… can I go home with you tonight?” 2 The comments exploded. [Holy crap! This isn’t a side character, he’s a full-on green tea bitch! That soft voice, trying to seduce the female lead while the male lead is away! Calling her ‘auntie’—just die already!] [There’s no way the female lead is falling for such a cheap trick. She only has eyes for her precious nephew! Her dad and the male lead’s dad were sworn brothers; they’re not even related by blood. They’re totally going to get married!] [Don’t forget, she also has a soft spot for cats, haha. She’s the ultimate cat person.] Because my transformation wasn’t complete, my eyes were still a cat-like amber-flecked black. Right now, widened with fear, the corners of my eyes were tinged red. Elizabeth looked down at me, her expression unreadable, but I saw her unconsciously rub the hand where I was clutching her sleeve. “What did you just call me?” Her voice was cool, but with a barely perceptible rasp. Remembering what the comments said about her loving cats, I summoned my courage, about to repeat myself. Her gaze hardened, and she yanked her arm away. The force was so strong I stumbled backward, barely managing to catch the half-closed car door to keep from cracking my head on the pavement. Elizabeth was already back to her usual indifferent self. Her eyes were fixed on a point in the distance, over my shoulder. Standing there was a boy, bundled up in an expensive raincoat. He was staring at me, his eyes red-rimmed, clutching a white cat to his chest as if he’d been deeply wronged. When he saw Elizabeth looking at him, his eyes welled up with tears. He abruptly threw the cat to the ground and ran off. Without a moment’s hesitation, Elizabeth slammed the car door shut. “Follow him,” she ordered the driver. 3 I was left choking on a cloud of exhaust fumes. I stood up, my back aching from the fall, feeling a pang of frustration. Dejected, I walked over and picked up the abandoned cat. Two of its four legs were broken. No wonder it hadn’t run, even after being so frightened. Its mouth was bleeding a little, too. But without the sponsorship, I had no money to get it treated. I hugged the cat tighter, a sour feeling rising in my chest. I carried it back to my leaky, dilapidated shack. I crushed my last small bag of dried fish, mixed it with water, and fed it to the white cat, one mouthful at a time. I didn’t dare sleep all night, my eyes wide as I watched over the barely breathing animal. As I rubbed my eyes, I caught a glimpse of a tall, cool figure standing in the moonlight. She had changed into a black blouse, which made her look even more refined and aloof. Her eyes were slightly narrowed as she leaned against the wall, watching me. I had no idea how long she’d been there. A clap of thunder roared. I quickly scooped up the cat and ran over to her. “Aun… Auntie.” Elizabeth frowned. “Aren’t you afraid of thunder? Why didn’t you go to the Sterling house?” My heart leaped. “You’re still willing to sponsor me?” Her gaze fell to the cat I was clutching protectively. In the moonlight, her sharp features softened slightly. “The contract is signed. I can’t go back on my word.” [The male lead ran back to his own house and refuses to see the female lead. She got mad and went to find the side character again.] [LOL, the side character actually thinks she cares about him. So gross.] [Even though she won’t say it, the whole point of sponsoring him was to make the male lead jealous. This idiot is too dumb to realize it. The second he’s not useful anymore, she’ll toss him aside again.] I held the cat and followed Elizabeth, ignoring the mocking comments. I didn’t care what they said. As long as I had food in my stomach, could go to school, and could get the cat treated, I was more than satisfied. 4 Once I understood what the comments meant—that Elizabeth was using me to make Liam jealous—I started doing a lot of “bad” things to prove my usefulness, all while the comments cursed me out. I would proactively serve her food at dinner, give her a head massage before bed… I even made a point of getting into the car she sent to pick Liam up from school. Liam refused to sit in the front passenger seat, so I shamelessly took it myself. That made him so angry he refused to go home, threatening to go stay with his childhood friend instead. The atmosphere in the car was tense. I looked at Elizabeth, my eyes shining. “Snowball is almost better. Do you want to come with me to see him?” Snowball was the name I’d given the white cat. Because Liam was slightly allergic to cat fur, he had been staying at the vet clinic. The light in the car was dim. Elizabeth had one hand on the steering wheel, her eyes no longer on the back seat in the rearview mirror. She looked at me, her eyes narrowed, a slight smile playing on her lips. “Alright.” Liam, who had one foot out of the Porsche, froze. He sat back down and huffed, his voice tight with anger. “No! It’s your birthday today, Aunt Liz! You promised you’d spend it with me! How can you go with this… this lowlife!” He leaned over from the back seat, wrapping his arms around Elizabeth’s in a possessive hug. Elizabeth’s indifferent gaze flickered to me. I obediently got out of the car, letting the wind from the passing luxury vehicle whip at my clothes. But Elizabeth had forgotten one thing: it was the staff’s day off. The villa gates were locked. I couldn’t get in. So I curled up outside, staring blankly with my cat-like eyes. The late autumn night wind was bone-chillingly cold. Still, it was much better than the days when I had nothing to eat and no warm clothes to wear. 5 After that day, Liam and Elizabeth’s relationship improved significantly. Elizabeth’s attitude towards me also changed, from cold and stern to something gentler. She would ask about my day, and bring me nice gifts when she came back from business trips. If Liam got a custom-tailored suit, I would get a tie. If Liam got a huge bouquet of roses, I would get a single tulip. She even started having the nanny pack an extra lunch for me when she sent food for Liam. Realizing my sponsorship was safe for now, I finally started to relax and focus more on my studies. After all, just as the comments said… I would be abandoned by her eventually. It was better to learn as much as I could before that happened. Once Snowball had fully recovered, Liam brought him home. Despite his mild allergy, he would put on his airtight raincoat to play with the cat. Maybe it’s true that pets are more attached to the person who buys them. One day, while I was doing my homework, Snowball, seemingly at Liam’s silent command, leaped at me and raked his claws down my arm. Blood instantly welled up from the deep scratches. Elizabeth came home at that exact moment and saw what had happened. She frowned. Liam immediately ran to her, his eyes red. “Aunt Liz,” he cried, hugging her tight waist, “they say cats are the most spiritual animals. This lowlife has been taking care of Snowball for so long, and Snowball still scratched him. It must be because he’s bad luck! Kick him out, please?” This was the first time Liam had acted so clingy since his tantrum. Elizabeth buried her face in his neck, her expression softening. She then glanced coolly at me. I stood in the middle of the living room, clutching my bleeding arm, at a complete loss. My eyes stung, and tears welled up. Before she could say anything, I lowered my head and obediently started packing my things. The moment I stepped out of the villa, a notification sound dinged on my phone. I lit up the screen. It was a message from Elizabeth, her profile picture a stark black square. “199 Laurel Canyon Drive. Go there for now.” “…I’ll come see you when I have time.” [The female lead just thinks the side character is useful, so she’s keeping him around. The next time the male lead throws a fit, she can just bring him back.] [Is there going to be another misunderstanding between the main couple?] [No way. Liam’s older sister is coming back from abroad soon. She adores her little brother, so she’ll definitely help him get rid of the side character.] [Hahaha, the sister loves cats too. She used to have a black cat. I guess no cat lover can resist a sweet, cat-like boy like the male lead!] … Watching the comments fly by, I pursed my lips and hailed a cab to the address Elizabeth had given me. One of the clauses in the contract stated that I must “strictly follow the sponsor’s instructions.” Elizabeth could withdraw her investment in me at any time, but I couldn’t break the contract. If I gave her a reason, I wouldn’t be able to afford the penalty. 6 I never expected that the scratch from Snowball would trigger my heat cycle. And I certainly never expected Elizabeth to show up tonight. Now, here I was, standing at the door with fluffy black cat ears and a matching tail drooping behind me, clutching a pillow, my eyes red and wide. I stared at Elizabeth, frozen. My ears twitched uncontrollably. “Aun… Auntie,” I stammered. The ears and tail wouldn’t retract. I quickly scampered upstairs and hid under the covers, forgetting to lock the door behind me. The door creaked open. The bed dipped slightly. A faint scent of gardenias filled the room. I huddled under the blanket, feeling a pair of intense, predatory eyes on me. Finally, on the verge of suffocating, I poked my head out, my eyes swimming with tears. Elizabeth was tall. Sitting on the edge of the bed, all I could see was her immaculate blouse and the small white first-aid kit she had placed beside her. My ears twitched. Before I could react, a hand reached out and pulled me from my cocoon. I struggled frantically. My secret was out! Oh no, the authorities are going to take me away! “Meow, meow, meow!” In my panic, all I could manage were cat sounds. I clapped a hand over my mouth and looked up, cautiously gauging her reaction. The room was dark. Her features were shadowed, her eyes cast low. Her gaze swept over my fluffy ears, her expression still unreadable. But the hand on my waist was gentle, stroking me softly. When she spoke, her voice was raspy. “What are you hiding from? Don’t be afraid. I won’t tell anyone.” “Come out. Let me treat your arm.” I obediently emerged from the covers. I watched as she opened the first-aid kit and used a cotton swab to disinfect the scratches. Because I hadn’t cleaned them right away, the wound had scabbed over. It stung when she touched it, but I clenched my teeth and didn’t make a sound. In the heavy silence, she spoke again, her voice soft. “Liam has been spoiled by his sister and me. I’ve already punished him for what happened today. Don’t be too upset.” “And I’ll make him change the way he addresses you.” [LOL, her idea of ‘punishing’ the male lead was taking away his phone and making him go to bed early. You’re just too in love, girl.] [What’s wrong with calling him a lowlife? That’s what he is. A gold-digger who pretends to be a cat to seduce her, even meowing. What a green tea bitch.] [True love is true love. Even if the male lead does nothing, she’ll still love him and never change. This side character is wasting his efforts.] I read the comments and silently breathed a sigh of relief. They all thought my ears and tail were fake. So, Elizabeth probably thought so too. She must! Reassured, I relaxed and smiled at her, my cat-like eyes crinkling. “It’s okay. I’m not angry.” After all, it wasn’t the first time Liam had called me a lowlife. If you’re being sponsored, you have to give something in return. A few insults were better than an empty stomach. Elizabeth’s movements stilled. “Mm,” she said softly. For some reason, I felt a chill emanate from her. She seemed to have reverted to her old, unapproachable self. 7 I asked Elizabeth to call the school and get me an excused absence. With my ears and tail out, I couldn’t exactly go to class. These past few days, she came to see me almost every day, saying she was worried about my wound getting infected. But cat-folk heal fast; the scratches had already faded to a faint scar. Sometimes, she would even stay the night. I’d wake up to find the side of my bed indented, as if someone had been sitting there, watching me for a long time. On the last day of my heat cycle, I finally worked up the courage. My ears flattened against my head, I walked into her study. Under her dark, intense gaze, I took a few more steps forward. “Um, do you… do you want to touch them? My ears, I mean. They’re about to go away…” Before I could finish, my drooping tail was swiftly snipped from behind with a pair of scissors.

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Born with a heart defect, my dying mother willed me her heart. But my husband Ben gave it to Scarlett—his true love. “She was critical,” he said coldly. “You’ll get another.” I screamed: “That was my mother’s heart!” He watched my breakdown indifferently. “As compensation,” he offered, “I’ll attend her funeral.” The next day, he ignored my calls—until I saw him in Scarlett’s social media post: Celebrating my health! At my mother’s grave, I whispered, “I have to break my promise.” Then I called the man she warned me against: “You wanted to make it up to me? Now’s your chance.” … 1 “Okay. You want a divorce? You want to get away from here? Fine. I’ll be there in three days, max. I’ll come for you and your mother.” The excited voice on the other end of the line turned cautious. “Amy… you still won’t call me Dad?” “I’ll be waiting.” I didn’t answer his question. I just hung up. A second later, Ben’s call came through. “What is it?” he asked, his tone laced with impatience. I ignored it. For the first time, I didn’t argue, didn’t fight back. I just spoke, my voice calm and empty. “Let’s get a divorce.” There was a pause on his end. He must have remembered his promise to attend the funeral. “Something urgent came up at the office. I’ll be back in three days. Don’t be unreasonable.” Then, a sweet, cloying voice floated through the phone. “Ben, honey, I forgot my towel. Can you bring it to me?” A flurry of panicked sounds followed. “It’s not what you think. I…” It was the first time Ben had ever deigned to explain himself to me, but I no longer cared enough to listen. I cut him off, my voice still eerily serene. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just get a divorce.” His voice turned to ice. “Amy, it seems I’ve been too lenient with you. You can spend the next three days at home thinking about what you’ve done.” Just as he said, Ben’s assistant appeared at the cemetery, flanked by a dozen bodyguards. “Mrs. Hayes, if you please.” I recognized them all. They were the men Ben had assigned to protect me because of my fragile health. I didn’t have the strength to resist. After a final, silent goodbye to my mother, I followed them back to the villa. The silver locket, the ninety-nine love letters, the hand-carved rosewood comb… One by one, I tossed every proof of our past love into the trash. As I tied up the last bag, a jacket was draped over my shoulders. “Don’t stand in the wind. You’ll catch a chill,” Ben’s voice was low, his brow furrowed with concern, as if our bitter fight from earlier had never happened. “Leave this kind of work to the staff.” “What are you doing back so soon?” I asked, confused. Just then, the door of a Rolls-Royce opened. Ben rushed over, his voice instantly softening to a gentle murmur. “Easy now. You didn’t want to stay at the hotel, so I brought you here, didn’t I? Just sit tight, I’ll carry you inside.” A gust of wind blew past, and the jacket slid from my shoulders. I didn’t bother to pick it up. I let it fall and mix with the rest of the garbage. Back in my room, I had just lain down when Ben came in. “You need to clear out one of the other rooms. Scarlett will be staying in here.” “She’s having some post-op rejection symptoms,” he continued, his tone authoritative. “She needs to rest properly.” He spoke as if he were the master of the house and I was merely a servant. My heart, already strained from the day’s emotional turmoil, began to ache with a sharp, stabbing pain. I closed my eyes, exhausted. “This is my home. If she needs medical care, a hospital is a much better place for her.” He was speechless for a moment, then turned and left. I could hear him bustling around outside, the constant rustling noises repeatedly jarring me from the edge of sleep. “Why don’t you just ask the staff to do it?” I sighed, exasperated. Ben’s lips thinned into a straight line. “They don’t know her preferences. I’ll do it myself.” The harsh, white light from the hallway seared my eyes. I remembered then, how many times I had asked him to change the bulbs to the warm, yellow light I preferred. He’d never gotten around to it. Blinking away the moisture gathering in my eyes, I looked at him. “You want a divorce? Fine. I’ll help you.” 2 Ben’s movements froze. He was changing the sheets, and the heavy linen snapped across my arm, leaving a stinging red mark. “Have you not had enough?” he snapped. “There’s a limit to this jealousy, Amy.” Before, it was jealousy. Now, it was just… nothing. My heart was a dead thing in my chest. He hadn’t even noticed all the things I’d thrown away. He tossed the sheet aside and shoved past me. “Forget it. She can just stay in my room tonight.” In the past, a power play like this would have sent me into a spiral of insecurity, begging for his forgiveness. Now, I just put on my sleep mask, went back to my own room, and slept. My mother wanted me to live a long, healthy life. I would honor that. I would eat well. I would sleep well. When I woke, I asked our housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, to make a steamer of crab soup dumplings. I had just taken the first bite when the dumpling was slapped out of my hand. “Amy, what the hell is wrong with you? You know Scarlett can’t have seafood after her surgery! Are you trying to kill her?” Ben’s cold accusation rained down on me. I found it almost laughable. “This is my breakfast. There isn’t any for you two. If you’re hungry, go ask Mrs. Gable.” My indifference seemed to ignite a fire in him. The words burst out before he could stop them. “You have a mother, but she clearly never taught you any manners!” The moment he said it, his lips pressed together in regret. My mother had poured her entire soul into raising me, showering me with love. She never let anyone speak ill of me, let alone like this. Tears streamed down my face without my consent. I stood up and slapped him, hard, across the face. “Get out.” Before taking Scarlett to the hospital, Ben locked me in the basement. He knew my heart condition made me susceptible to panic attacks. He knew the basement was my deepest, darkest fear. “I promise to be your shield, to keep you safe from every shadow.” His wedding vow echoed in my mind, a ghostly reminder of a man who no longer existed. I wrapped my arms around myself, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. As my vision blurred, I saw her. My mother. She stroked my hair, just like she used to. “It’s okay, my love. Don’t be afraid. Mommy’s here with you. You have to be strong.” When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. “Don’t worry. I’m already looking for a new heart donor for you,” Ben said, holding a spoonful of egg custard to my lips. I turned my head away. I only wanted my mother’s. I wanted to live on for both of us. But I knew he would never give it to me. I would have to take it myself. “Amy, don’t push your luck,” he warned, his patience thinning. “If your mother were alive, she would understand my decision. She wouldn’t want you to be so unreasonable.” I let out a cold, bitter laugh. “If my mother were alive, she would never feed me egg custard. She knew I’m allergic.” A suffocating silence fell between us, broken only by the arrival of Scarlett. “Amy, please don’t be angry with Ben,” she said, her voice trembling. “It was my idea. I suggested the custard for you.” Ben rushed to her side, steadying her. I ignored her pathetic act, my eyes fixed on her chest. My mother’s heart was in there. I would take it back with my own hands. “You’re still in your recovery period. Why did you come all the way here?” Ben chided Scarlett gently. “Besides, it wasn’t your fault. If she can’t eat it, it’s because she’s being difficult.” Tears welled in Scarlett’s eyes. She nodded meekly, then suddenly dropped to her knees by my bed. “Amy, I know I took your heart. If I could, I’d tear it out of my own chest and give it to you. I’d rather die.” Her face crumpled in a look of shame and humiliation. “But I swear I never tried to seduce Ben. Please… please don’t send people to… to do those things to me.” Ben’s expression hardened instantly. He believed her without a second thought. He shook his head, his eyes filled with disappointment. “Amy, I knew you were jealous and possessive, but I never thought you were this vile.” “It wasn’t me,” I said, the denial automatic. “I have a heart condition. I don’t have the strength or the connections to do something like that. You can check.” But he had already stripped my clothes off and thrown me into the hospital corridor. The sideways glances of strangers were like a thousand tiny cuts, slicing me apart. I wanted to run, but Ben had posted guards. There was no escape. He finally brought me back to the room late that night. “I’ll make sure this doesn’t get out,” he said, as if granting me a great mercy. “But you need to learn your lesson. I will not have a wife who is so malicious.” His magnanimity was so absurd I laughed until I cried. He frowned, clearly unsettled by my reaction, and by the fact that I offered no further defense. “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” “Would you believe me if I did?” I shot back. I didn’t even wait for an answer. I knew he wouldn’t. He didn’t believe me when I said Scarlett tripped on her own. He didn’t believe I was the one who made him soup when he was sick, not her. He would never believe that her weakness was an act, that her condition was never as urgent as she claimed. I turned and started walking toward the stairs. “About what you asked for earlier,” Ben said suddenly from behind me. “I agree.” A lifetime of humiliation in exchange for a divorce decree. I couldn’t tell if I had won or lost. But before I could get the papers from him, he took a phone call and rushed out the door. “Okay, don’t be scared. I promise I’ll be there before the thunder starts.” That night, a violent storm raged. I curled up in bed, clutching a photo of my mother, and finally fell asleep. The next morning, Ben returned and bundled me into the car. After a few minutes, I realized something was wrong. We were heading in the opposite direction of City Hall, getting further and further away. The cloying scent of a perfume that wasn’t mine filled the car, making me nauseous. I looked at him. “You promised. Where are we going?” 3 Ben shot me a strange look. “You always wanted to go to Disneyland, didn’t you? I’m taking you.” I finally remembered. I had mentioned it so many times, but he always dismissed it as childish. I’d given up hope long ago. When he saw that I wasn’t overjoyed, he did something unprecedented. He asked, “Is there something else you want?” I want a divorce. I want my mother’s heart back. The answers were immediate, but I didn’t say them. He would never agree. Besides, I had already received a message. The man I called was on his way. At that thought, a real, relaxed smile touched my lips. Ben’s own mouth curved upwards, misinterpreting my expression as pleasure. “Amy, Scarlett isn’t your enemy. If you behave, I’ll find you a better heart. Then we can be together forever, for a long, long time.” I ignored him. Scarlett’s perfume was making my chest tight. The moment we arrived at the park, I jumped out of the car, forgetting my phone in my haste. I was just starting to catch my breath when Ben grabbed my arm, his grip like iron. I turned to see his face, dark and stormy. “A man just called you. Who was it?” I knew it was him. He was here. I had sent him my location. I switched off my phone. Facing Ben’s fury, I scoffed. “He called a dozen times. You’ve forgotten my phone password, haven’t you? Just like you’ve forgotten my birthday.” After a tense moment, Ben dropped the subject and went to buy tickets. “What do you want to ride?” “Whatever,” I said, scrolling through my phone, feigning indifference. “Want to take a picture?” “No.” “Oh, why not?” Scarlett’s voice piped up from behind us. “Ben loves taking pictures with me. You should get one too, Amy. I heard you only have one wedding photo. That’s a bit sad, don’t you think?” Ben’s brow furrowed in annoyance, and he cut her off. “You two decide on a ride. I’ll go get the passes.” “Let’s do the TRON Lightcycle Run, the Hyperspace Mountain, and the Grizzly River Run!” Scarlett declared before I could speak. “We’re here to have fun, and those are the most popular rides!” Ben looked relieved. “Good thinking, Scarlett. I’m glad you did your homework.” Without giving me a chance to object, he bought the passes and dragged me onto the TRON ride. Scarlett had picked out the most intense, high-thrill rides in the entire park. For someone with a congenital heart defect. When the ride finished, my face was as white as a sheet. Before I could even steady my breathing, Scarlett let out a theatrical sob. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Amy! I completely forgot your heart isn’t better yet!” she cried. “Ben, quick, go get her medicine from the car!” “Okay, Scarlett, you watch her.” As Ben rushed off, Scarlett’s mask of concern dropped. A cruel smile spread across her face as she leaned in close. “Your heart’s hurting now, isn’t it?” she whispered. “It’s a pity. You’re just so hard to kill.” “I worked so hard to convince your mother to die, and you were so devastated. I can’t believe you didn’t just die with her. And now, even after a ride like that, you’re still alive. It’s infuriating.” My heart hammered against my ribs. My lips turned blue. I stared at her, horrified. “What did you say?” Scarlett’s smile was triumphant and vicious. “Oh, right. You don’t know. Your mother really did love you, though. Willing to die just to give you a healthy heart. It barely took any convincing at all.” My hands and feet went numb with rage. I couldn’t breathe. Scarlett had murdered my mother. She savored my agony. “And just so you know what you’re dying for, I’ll tell you one more thing.” “I never had a heart condition to begin with.” She pointed to her own chest. “That precious heart of hers? It’s not even in my body. I fed it to the dogs.” Something inside me snapped. I don’t know where the strength came from, but I lunged at her, my hands closing around her throat. “What are you two doing?!” A powerful force kicked me away. I heard Ben’s panicked voice. “Scarlett, swallow the pill. You’re going to be okay.” He didn’t even glance at me. He gave Scarlett the only life-saving medication I had, then scooped her up and carried her away. That final, desperate lunge had drained the last of my life force. I knew, with chilling certainty, that I was going to die. … Three months later. I woke up from surgery. A man named Marcus Thorne handed me my phone. “My child,” he said, his voice gruff but gentle. “You had collapsed. Your life was in grave danger. I had no choice but to bring you here immediately.” “Your heart is stable now. You’re going to be fine. This is yours.” I glanced around the room. I recognized the faces of the world’s top surgeons. Men of their stature couldn’t be bought with money alone. To be able to summon them all… this was the power of the Blackhawk Syndicate, the organization that held Europe in its grip. I pushed the thought aside and turned on my phone. A flood of messages from Ben poured in. [Where did you go? I heard you left with some strange man. Who is he?] [I found a suitable heart for you. Come back, and I’ll arrange the surgery.] [Fine. If you don’t want to come back, if you want a divorce, then you’ve got it. In three months, Scarlett and I are getting married. Don’t you dare regret this!] I checked the date. The wedding was in three days. “Child, will you call me Dad?” The man beside me, Marcus, asked, his voice full of a desperate hope. I looked at him, then paused. “Uncle.” “Ah.” He sighed, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He held up a hand to stop one of his men from reacting. “It’s alright. I know you resent me. I failed you and your mother. Your mother… I know I don’t have the right to even say her name, but where is she now?” “You’ve suffered so much. She must have, too. Tell me. I will move heaven and earth to get justice for you both.” “My mother is dead.” I watched impassively as this towering, powerful man broke down, sobbing like a child. “Who did it?” he roared, his voice cracking with grief. “Who killed your mother? I’ll make them wish they were never born!” I told him everything. When I was finished, he stormed out of the room. A few moments later, a series of gunshots echoed from outside. They stopped after a while. He came back in, wiping his face. “Amy, what do you want to do now?” I glanced at the last text message from Ben. “Go home. And get my mother’s revenge.”

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1 I found 21 calls to a strange number on my wife’s phone bill. Bursting into the bathroom, I confronted her—shampoo bubbles in her hair, exasperation on her face. “Call the damn number yourself if you think I’m cheating!” I did. A cheerful male voice answered: “Welcome to The Grove.” Mortified, I apologized and hung up. Later, I tipped the manager, praising the “male receptionist.” He frowned. “We only have female staff.” That night, I checked her dashcam. Footage led me to a high-rise—registered under her mother’s name. A man in a towel opened the door. … I watched him, my eyes tracing the path of a single droplet of water as it slid down his toned abs before disappearing beneath the towel cinched at his waist. He looked five or six years younger than me, in the prime of his life. Surprise flickered in his eyes; he was clearly expecting someone else. Then I heard that same cheerful, confident voice from the phone. “You must be Ethan,” he said. “I’m Sean, Katherine’s distant cousin. I’m staying here while I prep for grad school.” I stared at him, my expression a mask of ice. So, Katherine had already coached him on the excuse. I wondered how many times they’d rehearsed this little scene, perfecting it until not a single crack showed. If it hadn’t been for that phone call, even if I’d found this place, I would have believed them. The realization sent my heart plummeting. “And you are?” he asked, extending a hand. I pushed my glasses up my nose, my gaze sweeping over him. “Oh, right, where are my manners,” he said with a laugh. “The name’s Sean.” I ignored his outstretched hand. A mocking smile touched my lips. “You sure make yourself at home.” I brushed past him and into the apartment. As our shoulders passed, I caught sight of a string of numbers tattooed on his bicep. SJ7.17 My eyes narrowed, fixating on the stylized script. He noticed my gaze and offered a casual explanation. “It’s the name of my old college team and the date it was founded,” he said, his tone light. “Young and full of passion back then, you know? The date felt important enough to get inked.” He sounded relaxed, but I saw his eyes flicker towards me, gauging my reaction. In that moment, I knew one thing for certain. That date had everything to do with Katherine. Had they been together since college? And in all those years, I hadn’t noticed a thing? A deep chill settled over me. I scanned the room. The place was clearly lived-in. Instead of a TV, a massive projector screen dominated one wall, creating a mini home theater. There was no couch, just a sleek, Japanese-style tatami mat. Beside it sat a high-end massage chair that must have cost a fortune. My mind conjured images of them, tangled together in those spots, night after passionate night. Just as I was about to step into the bedroom, the front door opened again. It was Katherine. She got here fast. I stood my ground, a faint smile playing on my lips as I watched her, her hair slightly disheveled. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, seizing the offensive. “Ethan, are you spying on me?” Her face hardened, her displeasure radiating off her like a cold wave. In the past, I would have dropped everything to soothe her anger. Now, I just gestured towards the bedroom. “Care to explain?” Her brow furrowed. She stepped in front of me, conveniently blocking my view of Sean. “What is there to explain? He’s my cousin. My mom asked me to look after him. Is that a problem?” I said nothing. She let out a short, frustrated laugh and pulled out her phone, dialing her mother. “Mom, Ethan thinks I’m cheating on him. You need to explain about Sean, because he obviously won’t believe a word I say.” Before I could react, she shoved the phone into my hand. “Oh, Ethan, dear,” my mother-in-law’s warm, gentle voice came through the speaker, a sound of infinite patience for my supposed paranoia. “Sean is your distant aunt’s son. I was the one who asked Kate to help him out. She probably didn’t mention it because you’ve been so busy. It’s my fault, dear, I do apologize.” She continued, “You must come over for dinner soon, when you have a free evening. Now, I have to run, the girls are waiting for me for bridge. Talk to you later, dear.” She hung up, leaving me standing there in stunned silence. Katherine watched me, her expression triumphant. “Satisfied now? Let’s go home. Don’t embarrass us in front of Sean.” Beside her, Sean offered a sympathetic smile. “Don’t say that, Kate. It just shows how much he cares about you. Right, Ethan?” I followed Katherine downstairs in silence. At the curb, she turned to me. “I have a meeting this afternoon. We’ll settle this when I get home.” She strode away, the sharp clicks of her heels on the pavement echoing her manufactured anger. She moved quickly, as if still furious at my unreasonable jealousy, and vanished around the corner. I watched her go, then lowered my gaze. After a long moment, I pulled out my phone and called my oldest friend. “Alex? I need you to run a background check on someone.” That afternoon, before dinnertime, Alex sent over the files. Sean’s university was different from Katherine’s. Their entire life trajectories showed no overlap. On paper, he really did look like nothing more than a distant cousin. I stared at the screen, my brow tightly furrowed. A moment later, I sent Alex another message. [Check my mother-in-law. I want everything: major bills, spending records, bank statements, property transfers for the last three years.] Alex replied instantly. [Whoa, you serious? I thought you worshipped your mother-in-law. What’s going on?] I didn’t answer. I just switched off my phone and stared out the window, lost in thought. My affection for Katherine had extended to her entire family. She came from a single-parent home, and I’d always been grateful to her mother for raising her alone. From the day we married, I treated her like my own mother. Whenever Katherine and I argued, she was always firmly on my side. If all of that was a lie… what was real? Half an hour later, my phone rang. It was Alex. “Holy shit, man. How the hell did you figure it out? Katherine’s been playing you this whole time? I sent you everything. See for yourself.” I opened the file containing my mother-in-law’s bank statements. Starting three years ago, almost every single month, Katherine had transferred ten thousand dollars into one of her mother’s accounts. But the expenditures were all things a young college guy would want: gaming consoles, designer sneakers, luxury watches, a motorcycle. The rest were living expenses, with the most frequent purchases coming from a high-end Japanese lifestyle store. A fixed charge appeared every single week. I scrolled up and saw the date the card was opened. July 17th. I understood. It was their anniversary. I opened the second document. These were purchases made from the mother-in-law’s primary account. There was the deed to the apartment they were living in. The ridiculously expensive massage chair. A sports car transferred from overseas. And every single one of these assets came with a meticulously drafted gift agreement. I started to laugh, a hollow sound in the empty room, even as a chill spread across my face. What was Katherine thinking when she arranged all this? Was she already planning the excuses she’d use if I ever found out? What kind of cold calculation was going through her head as she orchestrated this betrayal? The final document was the straw that broke me. It was the investment portfolio for a fashion design studio, opened in my mother-in-law’s name. Listed under “Founder and Shareholder” was a single name. Sean. I don’t remember driving home. When I came to, my car was parked in the underground garage. My phone was buzzing with notifications for traffic violations. Speeding. Running red lights. I covered my face and slumped against the steering wheel, the world spinning around me. The sudden ringing of my phone was a piercing shriek in the enclosed space. Exhausted, I answered. “Ethan, where are you? I just got a dozen speeding alerts! What happened? Are you okay?” Katherine’s voice was laced with urgent concern. “I was rushing to deliver some documents,” I lied. Her voice turned angry. “Are you trying to get yourself killed? Pull over right now! I’m coming to get you.” I could hear the rustle of clothes as she dressed. “No need. I’m already in the garage.” The sounds on her end stopped instantly. She let out a breath of relief. “Well, then get up here.” When the elevator doors opened, she was waiting for me, dressed in her loungewear with a coat thrown hastily over her shoulders. Her eyes were filled with worry. She started nagging me immediately, chiding me for driving like a reckless teenager. I watched her, this woman who stood before me, feigning concern for my safety while meticulously paving the road for another man. That night, after Katherine was asleep, I contacted a new lawyer. I had him start assessing our assets and sent him all the records I had, telling him to prepare for the worst. The next morning, I woke up to find Katherine had, for the first time in ages, made breakfast. “I have a client meeting over in Blue Bay today,” she said. “It’s on your way to the office. Can you give me a ride?” I looked at her for a long moment, then nodded. Now was not the time to blow this up. I needed more evidence. On the drive, my phone started ringing incessantly. Just as I was about to answer, Katherine snatched it from the console and ended the call. “Don’t tell me you’re hiding a little secret of your own,” she teased, turning my own accusations back on me with a playful smile. The hypocrisy made me want to laugh. She playfully refused to let me answer any more calls. When we arrived at my office building, I saw my assistant waiting for me by the entrance. As I walked up, he hesitated for a moment before asking cautiously, “Sir, have you had any contact with a studio called SJ recently?” The familiar initials made my breath catch in my throat. A wave of nausea and a terrible premonition washed over me. “No. Why?” He quickly handed me his tablet. It displayed a dozen design sketches. My world tilted on its axis. I stared at the familiar elements, a furious fire igniting in my chest. I strode to my office. “Give me the full report,” I commanded. It turned out that this SJ studio had just released a series of concept designs and had already registered the copyrights. The design elements—the unique patterns, the signature cuts—were nearly identical to my company’s flagship product for the upcoming season. The real problem was that, to build suspense, we hadn’t publicly released any of the designs yet. The product line was already in production. The celebrity endorsement deals were already signed. This meant that if consumers believed we were the copycats, the company would suffer catastrophic losses. Worse, it would destroy our relationships with our partners. An icy chill crept down my spine. The first person I thought of was Katherine. I never imagined that to build a future for Sean, she would be willing to sacrifice the company I built from the ground up as a burnt offering. Before I could even begin to formulate a plan, another assistant burst into my office. “Mr. Hayes, the plagiarist… he’s on a live interview right now.” I shot up from my chair and grabbed the phone. There on the screen was Sean, appearing on a popular business news program. He looked clean-cut and boyish, the charming guy next door. He handled the host’s sharp questions with a calm confidence that was winning over the audience. When asked why his studio was named SJ, he grinned and casually rolled up his sleeve, revealing the tattoo on his bicep. “It’s to honor someone very important to me,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “I want her name to be not just in my heart, but on my body, in my life. I want her to be everywhere.” The host swooned. “That must be your partner! Would you mind sharing your story with us?” He shook his head with a shy smile. “I promised her I wouldn’t mention her in public without her permission.” A few comments popped up in the live chat. [Can’t mention her? Why not? Is she married or something?] [Whoa, the person above might be onto something. If it’s so epic, why the secrecy?] [You guys are just jealous. Maybe it’s their private little thing. Get a life.] The comments section erupted into a debate. I stared blankly at the screen. Then the host asked another question. “So, what was the inspiration for this design collection? And why did you name it ‘The Orchid Hour’?” Sean froze for a fraction of a second. The host pressed on. “Does it mean you met your special someone when the orchids were in bloom? Is she a fan of a particular kind, perhaps?” He was clearly stumped. I had no idea why the host was pressing this point. But Sean recovered quickly. He gave a slight wink to the camera, a mysterious smile playing on his lips, and said nothing more. I watched the screen, my voice a low whisper in the silent office. “‘A beautiful moment, destined to fade. The orchid hour does not linger.’” That was the line that had inspired the entire collection. I never thought it would become a prophecy for my own life.

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The first time my wealthy parents found me, I was pregnant. And I didn’t even know who the father was. They were furious, declaring that the baby had to be aborted immediately to prevent it from staining the family’s reputation. But a thrill shot through me. So, my family was that powerful. Powerful enough to casually order the termination of a child belonging to the heir of the Thorne dynasty. This was… perfect. 1 “Amelia, darling, go get your sister a glass of water.” My mother squeezed my hand, her voice earnest as she addressed the girl who had been raised in my place. “From now on, you two must be like real sisters. No fighting, you hear me? We can’t have outsiders laughing at the Devereaux family.” Amelia nodded obediently, her expression perfectly demure. My father and brother watched the scene with satisfied smiles. She hurried to the kitchen and returned with a glass of ice water. “Here you go, sister.” My fingers brushed against the frosty glass, and I flinched, pulling my hand back with a touch of embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Amelia… I’m pregnant. I can’t have anything cold.” Amelia froze, her gaze dropping to my stomach with a strange, unreadable expression. In an instant, the air in the room went dead. My mother’s warm hand slipped away from mine, and a familiar sense of loss washed over me. 2 “You—you’re married?” “No.” “You have a boyfriend, then.” “No.” “You just graduated from high school.” “Yes.” “Who is the father?” “He’s… I don’t know.” 3 After the interrogation, a heavy, suffocating silence descended. The atmosphere was terrifying. All the warmth and excitement of our reunion had vanished. My parents and my brother stared at me, their eyes picking me apart, making my skin crawl. Amelia, meanwhile, sat quietly to the side, fiddling with her fingers in a way that was surprisingly hypnotic. After watching her for a while, I started doing it too. It actually helped calm my nerves. I was so absorbed that I didn’t notice the storm clouds gathering on the faces of the other three. Finally, my father broke the silence, his face a mask of thunder. “What the hell does that mean, you know but you don’t know?” 4 An image of a man immediately flashed into my mind. Proud, quiet, domineering… All I knew was that his last name was Thorne. I honestly had no idea what his first name was. Our meeting, according to him, was an accident. To me, it was the perfect cliché: the humble barmaid and the handsome billionaire. I remember looking down at him, drunk and devastatingly beautiful in my arms, his face a masterpiece of sharp lines and dark brows. When his hands started to wander, I lost all control and dragged him into the staff bathroom. I thought that would be it. A one-time thing. We’d go our separate ways and never see each other again. But he was like a ghost. He started appearing on my walk home from work. Inside my tiny rental apartment. In places I never expected. And each time, he would leave the wild marks of his possession on my skin. At first, I was lost in the thrill of it. But as time went on, I grew scared. I started avoiding him, hiding from him. It never worked. He always found me. “Why are you running?” he’d ask. “Aren’t you tired of me yet?” I’d shoot back. He would just laugh, a cold, humorless sound, before flipping me onto my back and pinning me beneath him once more. Then, about two weeks ago, he disappeared. I was ecstatic. I’m not an idiot. I’d seen his cars—the Rolls-Royce, the Bentley, and a whole collection of supercars I couldn’t even name. I think one of them was a Bugatti… His aura, the way he spoke, the power he carried… he was from a world I couldn’t even imagine, let alone aspire to. I had been lucky enough to have a taste of a man that beautiful. I was satisfied with that. Besides, he never gave me any money, so what else was I supposed to do? But then he was gone. And I was pregnant. I can’t deny that for a fleeting moment, I considered keeping it. Boy or girl, I knew my child would be beautiful. How could they not be, with a father that handsome? But I crushed the thought immediately. The baby was not an option. The grandmother who had raised me was gone. I was all alone. How was a single mother with a baby supposed to build a life, let alone find a husband? My future was a long, open road, and I didn’t want to spend it struggling. Still, I thought of his domineering nature, his raw power, his untamed temper. I was afraid that if I got rid of his child without his permission, he would find out and unleash his fury on me. That would be the end of me. I was trapped. Finally, I worked up the courage to send him a text. “I’m pregnant.” If I couldn’t decide, he would have to. Whatever the outcome, he couldn’t blame me. Three days passed. He never replied. I cursed him out for the scumbag he was, and then, in a fit of rage, I blocked him on everything. It was a little reckless, but damn, it felt good. Just as I was about to schedule an appointment at the clinic, my wealthy biological parents found me. They told me I was their long-lost daughter. It felt like a miracle. My life was finally looking up. Which brought me to this moment. As for the pregnancy, I never thought to hide it. Seeing the Mercedes they picked me up in, the opulent mansion they called home… I knew they had power. I figured that after I took care of the baby, if that Mr. Thorne ever came looking for me, my family could protect me. 5 I glanced nervously at my father, preparing to tell him the truth. “Dad, all I know is that his last name is Thorne.” You don’t even know his name? The look in their eyes shifted from disappointment to disgust. I lowered my head in shame, my hands twisting in my lap. My mother took a deep, steadying breath. “What are your plans?” “I want to get rid of it,” I said quickly, looking up. A collective sigh of relief went through the room. The tension in their shoulders eased. “But…” “But what?” my brother snapped, his patience wearing thin. “But he’s a very intimidating man,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “I’m scared…” My brother cut me off with a derisive snort. “In the backwater town you came from? How intimidating could anyone possibly be?” My mother joined in, her voice laced with arrogance. “You’ve just returned, so you may not understand the Devereaux family’s standing. In this city, aside from a few old dynasties, we fear no one. Even if they’re richer than us, as long as they aren’t under the Thorne’s protection, we can handle them. Thorne, you say? It couldn’t possibly be…” She trailed off, looking at me, and then let out a small, dismissive laugh. A girl from the countryside and the heir to the Thorne dynasty? The idea was absurd. I could feel their contempt, but it didn’t sting as much as it should have. I was used to it. Growing up, my grandmother was the only one who ever stood up for me. No one else gave me a second glance. As long as this new family cared enough about their reputation not to abuse me openly, and maybe gave me some money, it was already a thousand times better than my old life. My father made the final decision. “Three days from now, your brother will take you to the clinic. You are a Devereaux by blood. To return to us unwed and pregnant is an utter disgrace.” I nodded. “Can’t we go tomorrow?” He turned away from me, as if he couldn’t bear the sight of me any longer. “We have an important family event in the coming days. You will attend with us. You’ll understand then.” “Okay, Dad.” A wave of relief washed over me. Three days wasn’t so long to wait. 6 “Brother, how many cars do we have?” I asked, running my hand over the sleek lines of a sports car in the garage, my eyes wide with wonder. My brother, sensing my awe, preened. “This is my Porsche 718. Pretty cool, right? Mom doesn’t like to drive. Dad has a Maybach, and your sister has a Porsche Panamera. All together, our cars are worth a few million.” “Wow,” I breathed, my voice filled with genuine admiration. “We’re so rich.” My praise seemed to please him. “You’ve been behaving yourself these last couple of days. If it weren’t for…” His eyes flicked to my stomach, and his tone cooled. “Tell you what. When Amelia gets tired of her car and wants a new one, I’ll have her give the old one to you. You are my sister, after all. Can’t have you embarrassing me when you go out.” My heart pounded with excitement. “Thank you, brother! You’re the best!” But deep down, a seed of unease was planted. I thought back to the man’s cars. They seemed… a lot more impressive than these. No. I shook the thought away. Stop thinking about that heartbreaker. Once the baby was gone and I had recovered, I would just be quiet, be good, and pick up the scraps this family offered me. It was still better than before. As for Mr. Thorne? We were in different cities, in different worlds. He was in Havenport; I was in the capital. He was probably just some local rich kid. Even if his family was wealthier than mine, what could he do to me now? 7 On the third day, I was dressed in one of Amelia’s old gowns and driven in her Panamera to the family’s five-star hotel. Amelia herself was a vision. She wore a stunning red dress, her makeup was flawless, and she was the center of attention everywhere she went. I was just a drab shadow at her side. “Sister, you really shouldn’t be at an event like this,” she whispered, her voice a mix of concern and condescension. “You’ll be nervous. Making a fool of yourself is one thing, but embarrassing the Devereaux family is another. Just remember to smile and keep quiet. The less you say, the fewer mistakes you make. Do you understand?” I nodded eagerly. “Don’t worry, sister. I’ll do exactly as you say.” Amelia offered a faint, satisfied smile, her eyes sweeping over me with disdain. She had clearly been preparing for a battle with me, but it turned out to be unnecessary. The “real” daughter had conveniently shown up pregnant with some nobody’s child, instantly ruining her standing with the family. Yesterday, our parents had hinted that I wouldn’t be seeing a penny of the family fortune. They would keep me around for a few years to maintain appearances, then marry me off to a business partner with a modest dowry. That would be the end of it. This outcome was perfect for Amelia, so she had no reason to make my life difficult. What was my name again? she thought. Ah, yes. Chloe. Chloe Devereaux. She continued to brief me on the evening’s dos and don’ts, and I listened intently, memorizing every detail.

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I’m bound to a dating-sim system. If I can successfully win over the male lead, I’ll get a massive payout. So, I’ve been grinding, trying to rack up affinity points like my life depends on it. Which, you know, it kind of does. But there’s a problem. The male lead’s obsessive, dangerously possessive younger sister has started looking at me… differently. It all came to a head when she cornered me by the lockers, her lip trembling as she looked up at me with wide, wounded eyes. “Alyshia,” she whispered, “do you really have to be in love with my brother?” … I was isekai’d into a cheesy high school romance novel as the main character, and slapped with a system designed to make me conquer the male lead. Only by making him fall for me can I escape this fictional world. During study hall, I chewed on the end of my pen, pretending to puzzle over a calculus problem. In reality, my brain was a looping playlist of TikTok dating advice. “Three little phrases that’ll make a man drop a grand on you.” “Be a damsel in distress, and he’ll be your knight in shining armor.” “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” Through his stomach… My eyes slid sideways to the desk behind me, where Jasper sat. His head was bent, fingers curled around a pen as he meticulously worked through an equation, the very picture of a model student. Do model students like homemade lunches? That night, I swung by a 7-Eleven and picked up a pack of sushi. The next morning, I carefully heated it up—just a little—and packed it into a sleek, insulated lunch box. Hey, I wasn’t being lazy; I was being efficient. Time is a resource best spent on the important stuff. For the final, masterful touch, I stuck a little pastel-pink sticky note on the lid. “A little something I made just for you. ♡” I could already picture it: Jasper finding the breakfast, his affinity for me skyrocketing. But the moment my hand placed the box on his desk, a voice, cold as ice, sliced through the morning air from behind me. “What are you doing?” I jumped, spinning around to meet a pair of shadowed, intense eyes. A girl stood there, seemingly having materialized out of thin air. Her features were sharp and defined, her skin a stark, pale white, like a meticulously carved marble statue. Her dark hair fell across her face, half-shrouding her eyes and casting an eerie, unsettling shadow that made her stunning beauty feel… creepy. Just then, my system chimed in with a helpful, albeit belated, notification. Warning, Host. This is Violet, Jasper’s half-sister. Every girl who has confessed her feelings for the male lead has met with a… suspicious accident, eventually forcing them to transfer schools. I ground my teeth, firing back a silent, furious message to the system. Couldn’t you have told me this, oh, I don’t know, BEFORE I was about to get murdered? The system, in an act of pure cowardice, went silent. … Violet’s chilling gaze was fixed on me. She took a single step forward. I instinctively took one back, my leg bumping hard against a desk with a loud thud. Her jaw was clenched, her shadowed eyes burning into me. “An-swer-me,” she bit out, each word a block of ice. The veins on her forearms stood out, taut and blue beneath her pale skin. A primal instinct screamed at me that if I didn’t say something, anything, those hands would be around my neck. Tomorrow’s school news would be my obituary. So, I did the only thing I could. I lied. “It’s not for him.” She stared, silent, waiting for me to continue. Her gaze was so unnerving I had to look away. I swallowed hard, my heart hammering against my ribs, and went all in. “Actually! It’s… it’s for you!” I thrust the lunch box towards her. For a split second, she just stared at it, completely dazed. The fierce hostility in her eyes seemed to dissolve, the sharp, dangerous edge to her presence softening into something… vulnerable. “For me?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. I tried to look calm, collected. “Y-yeah. Of course. Who else?” I then ducked my head, channeling every ounce of shy, bashful energy I could muster, and scuffed my shoe on the floor like a nervous character in a bad rom-com. “But… but I was too embarrassed to give it to you myself, so I was going to ask Jasper to pass it along.” To sell the lie, I started reading the note aloud, my voice saccharine sweet. “A little something I made just for my dear—” “Shut up.” Her voice was sharp, but her ears were blazing red. She snatched the lunch box from my hands. “Don’t… don’t read it out loud.” I blinked at her. Sensing my gaze, she shot me a flustered glare, then nervously bit her lower lip. It took her a moment to force out the words. “Th-thanks.” She bought it. A wave of relief washed over me. “Violet, what are you doing here?” The newcomer was Jasper. He was walking over from the classroom door, carrying two bags of breakfast, his eyes flicking between me and his sister. “I—” I started. “Nothing!” Violet cut me off. Realizing she’d sounded too aggressive, she turned to Jasper, her voice softening. “Hey, Jasper. I’m not having the breakfast you brought today. I’m gonna head back to class.” Before Jasper could even reply, she was gone, clutching the lunch box to her chest as she bolted from the room. … Jasper’s gaze lingered on his sister’s retreating form for a moment before turning back to me. Our eyes met, and a warm, easy smile spread across his face. “Alyshia, I hope Violet didn’t give you any trouble.” Remembering the near-death experience I’d just had, I managed a strained laugh. “Of course not.” He sighed, a knowing look on his face. “She’s been spoiled by our family,” he said apologetically. “I’m really sorry if she came off as rude. Please forgive her.” He held out one of the breakfast bags he was carrying. “Here, let me make it up to you. This is for you.” “Oh, you really don’t have to,” I said, my words polite but my hands moving with shameless speed. The second my fingers closed around the bag, a cheerful electronic voice pinged in my head. + 5 Affinity. Congratulations, Host. Jasper’s smile was gentle. He noticed me staring and touched his face. “Is there something on my face?” He was handsome, in that effortlessly bright, boyish way that seemed to radiate pure sunshine. I meant to shake my head, but a cheesy pick-up line tumbled out of my mouth before my brain could stop it. “Yeah. A little something called handsome.” Oh god. Kill me now. My toes curled in my shoes from sheer embarrassment, and I desperately wished the floor would swallow me whole. But then, the system pinged again. +10 Affinity. Congratulations, Host. I looked up to see Jasper scratching the back of his neck, a bashful, pleased look on his face. It suddenly dawned on me that maybe, just maybe, I’d been underestimating how simple this guy was. The school bell rang, saving me from further embarrassment. I gave Jasper a stiff, polite smile and quickly retreated to my seat. Excellent work, Host, the system chirped, for once offering praise. “Yeah, thanks a million,” I muttered under my breath. You are most welcome, Host. Instilling you with confidence is my primary function. The system was completely oblivious to my sarcasm, sounding almost… proud of itself. But I couldn’t complain. My mood was soaring. Seeing that affinity score jump so quickly gave me a rush. Winning over some guy? Piece of cake. … The moment the teacher turned to write on the board, I devoured the breakfast Jasper had given me in three bites. The monotonous drone of the lecture, mixed with the low hum of student chatter, was a potent lullaby. My eyelids felt like they were weighted down. I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, a wave of noise snapped me awake. A glance at the clock showed that class had been over for three minutes. Through the window, I saw a large crowd of students gathered on the field. I squinted, my eyes focusing on the figures in the center of the circle. Jasper. I yawned, grabbed an unopened bottle of water from my desk, and wandered out to join the throng. Even among the other players on the court, Jasper was the main event. He wore a basketball jersey, a bright, confident smile plastered on his face. As the game started, the energy of the crowd swelled, the air growing thick with excitement. I found a shady spot on the edge of the crowd and squatted down, offering up a lazy cheer every now and then. “Jasper is so hot. I wish he was my boyfriend.” “Dream on. You want to deal with his psycho sister?” That comment cut through my sleepy haze like a shot of espresso. I scooted closer to the girls who were talking, putting on my most innocent, clueless expression. “Jasper has a sister?” One of the girls saw my “uninformed” face, and her gossip-loving heart ignited. She pulled me closer, glanced around conspiratorially, and lowered her voice. “Girl, you haven’t heard? It’s all over the school.” “Jasper has this seriously unhinged sister. Anyone who confesses to him, she finds a way to get them transferred.” I gasped dramatically, covering my mouth. “For real?” The girl puffed out her chest. “One hundred percent! And it’s not just the psycho sister. There’s this other group of girls, too. If they see anyone getting even a little too close to Jasper, they drag them into the bathroom for a beatdown. They’re even scarier than Violet.” My eyebrows shot up. Now that was a piece of intel the system had conveniently left out. “Honestly, I kind of feel bad for Jasper,” the girl continued with a sigh. “His dad is super strict, controls every single one of his grades. He got a bad score on a test once and came to school the next day with a handprint on his face… Hey, I also heard that…” A sudden, deafening roar from the crowd drowned out the rest of her sentence. Jasper was popular, and a decent player. Every basket he made was met with a chorus of shrieks. My new gossip buddy’s eyes lit up, and she abandoned our conversation to scream “Go, Jasper!” at the top of her lungs. I squeezed the plastic water bottle in my hand. Suddenly, this mission felt a lot more complicated. … The moment the final whistle blew, I grabbed my water and started towards Jasper. I hadn’t even taken a full step before a familiar, icy voice stopped me dead in my tracks, sending a chill down my spine. “Where do you think you’re going?” My body went rigid. I turned my head with the slow, creaky movement of a rusty robot. Violet. She’d appeared at my side, her big, dark eyes locked on the bottle of water in my hand. Violet was undeniably beautiful, but her deathly pale complexion and the aggressive intensity of her gaze gave her a vaguely menacing aura. Standing there with the sun at her back, she was a statue-like silhouette, perfectly still, just… staring. The intensity of her gaze made my skin crawl. I forced a smile, the muscles in my face protesting, and took a reluctant step towards her. She didn’t move, but her eyes tracked me until I was standing right in front of her. Taking a deep breath, I shoved the water bottle into her hand, plastered on my sweetest smile, and deployed my now-perfected lie. “I was just looking for you, actually. I knew you’d be around here somewhere, and I brought you some water.” As her fingers closed around the bottle I’d pushed on her, the cold tension in her body seemed to evaporate. “You… you knew I’d be here?” I paused for a beat, then answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Of course. I knew you’d come to watch Jasper play basketball. It’s so hot today, so I got this water specifically for you.” I put extra emphasis on the word specifically and watched her expression. Her lips, which had been slightly chapped, pressed together. “Oh,” was all she said. Seeing that she believed me, I let out a silent sigh of relief. I needed to get a copy of Violet’s class schedule. That way, I could perfectly avoid— That will not work, Host, the system interrupted coldly, helpfully explaining, Violet skipped her class specifically to come to the court and watch Jasper play. … I looked at Violet with a complex mix of emotions. Such a pretty girl. What a shame her brain was completely broken. … I was still lamenting her tragic case of insanity in my head when a sharp voice cut through my thoughts. “Look out!” Violet suddenly yanked my shoulder. I stumbled forward, crashing into her. At the exact same moment, a basketball whizzed through the air where my head had just been. My face was buried in the curve of her neck, my hand pressed against her collarbone for balance. A faint, delicate scent filled my nose—something like an unknown flower, very subtle. My reaction was instantaneous and reflexive. I shoved her away. My heart was pounding, a wild, frantic rhythm against my ribs. I coughed twice, clearing my throat. “Thanks for that.” “Mm,” she grunted, clutching the water bottle I’d given her, and walked away without another word. I guessed the near-miss with the ball had scared me more than I thought. My heart wouldn’t stop racing. The image of Violet’s dark, brooding face from a moment ago sent a fresh wave of goosebumps across my skin. My mission to deliver water to the male lead had been intercepted, and I’d lost all interest in watching the game. I snuck back to the empty classroom alone. I was intensely curious about the root of Violet’s obsession with Jasper, but unfortunately, the original author of this novel had abandoned the story after only a few chapters. If I wanted answers, I’d have to get them from the NPCs in this world. I had just sat down when a gust of wind blew the curtains open, and a pen on my desk rolled onto the floor. I bent down to pick it up and, through the gap between the desks, I saw it: a thick, leather-bound journal lying under Jasper’s desk. Snooping through someone’s private things wasn’t exactly noble, but my gut told me this journal might hold some answers. I walked over to Jasper’s desk, knelt, and picked it up. Worried the owner would notice it had been moved, I decided to stay where I was, crouched on the floor, and read it right there. … I opened it to the first page. The paper was yellowed with age; this journal had clearly been around for a while. On the page was a child’s drawing. The lines were clumsy, and I could faintly see the smudged traces of an eraser that hadn’t quite done its job. I guessed the artist was very young when they drew this. The picture was crude, but I could make out a small girl cowering in a corner while a slightly larger boy stood in front of her, shielding her. Facing the boy were masses of chaotic, scribbled lines. Unfortunately, child psychology wasn’t my major, so I couldn’t glean much from this abstract piece. I turned the page. Two words, scrawled in angry red ink, nearly filled the entire sheet. GO DIE! GO DIE! The author had pressed down so hard that the final stroke had torn through the paper. A shiver went down my spine. I turned to the third page. The style seemed to have matured, and I realized this must be a diary. Monday. I went back to school today. I didn’t have lunch. I’m so hungry. Tuesday. The mean boys in class called me a bad seed, so I stole his sandwich. It was good. Wednesday. The teacher said she’s going to call my parents, but Dad won’t come. The diary chronicled a daily struggle at school, and as time went on, the problems escalated. Dead rats in her desk, being dragged into the bathroom and doused with dirty water… The calm, matter-of-fact way it was all written made it hard for me to breathe. I looked up from the diary, taking a deep, shaky breath to calm myself before turning the page. They say I’m a natural-born bad kid, that I should just die. But I’m studying hard. I’m not making trouble for Dad or my brother. Why? WHY?! This page was crumpled, and a large chunk of the bottom left corner had been ripped away. The following entries were all damaged in some way. Some were torn, and the words that remained were often scribbled over with a pen, rendered illegible. I flipped through the pages quickly, until, finally, the entries became clear again. This page had only a few words on it. My brother is so good… I want to be with him forever… … My fingertips trembled. I glanced at the clock; class was about to end. I closed the journal, carefully placed it back where I’d found it, and returned to my seat as if nothing had happened. A journal, found under Jasper’s desk. It had to be Violet’s. Did she leave it there on purpose, hoping her brother would find it? Natural-born bad kid, bullying… The mysteries were tangling together like a knotted ball of yarn, squeezing the air from my lungs. I thought back to Violet’s stunned, almost grateful reaction whenever I showed her the slightest bit of kindness. Suddenly, a wave of pity for her washed over me. For the rest of the afternoon, I juggled my thoughts about Violet’s diary with my primary mission: charming Jasper. He seemed to have a real weakness for cheesy pick-up lines. I spent the afternoon wracking my brain, dredging up every corny line I’d ever heard. By the end of the day, I’d managed to push his affinity score all the way to seventy. “Alyshia, you’re really something else,” Jasper said, looking down shyly as he handed me a piece of candy. “This gummy is really sweet.” I took it from him, tilted my head back to gaze dreamily at the ceiling, and said with deep emotion, “But… you’re sweeter.” His head dropped even lower. At the same time, the system chimed in. +5 Affinity. Congratulations, Host. My confidence surged. I sat up straighter, already searching my mental database for more lines. Just then, a boy ran up to our desks, grabbing Jasper by the arm. “Come on, the teacher’s looking for you!” he said breathlessly. Jasper looked confused but let himself be dragged out of the classroom. The second he was out the door, a girl from our class approached my desk with a bright smile. “Alyshia, could you come to the restroom with me? There’s something I want to talk to you about.” … I raised an eyebrow, suspicious, but she just gave me a friendly, disarming smile and asked again, “Can you?” I ended up agreeing. She linked her arm through mine affectionately and pulled me towards the door. “So, what did you want to tell me?” I asked. She squinted her eyes, her smile turning into a smirk. “You’ll find out soon enough.” The moment I stepped into the restroom, someone shoved me hard from behind. The floor was wet, and my feet slipped out from under me. I went down hard, landing in a puddle of grimy water that instantly soaked through my pants, clinging coldly to my skin. Click. The lock on the bathroom door turned behind me. Several girls surrounded me. The “friendly” one from class walked slowly towards me and crouched down, her fingers gripping my chin. She let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Tsk, you idiot. You really think your little act could fool anyone but that moron, Violet?” My eyes widened. This had to be them. The ones the girl on the field had mentioned, the ones who were “even scarier than Violet.” The leader of the group suddenly raised her hand. I tried to dodge, but two other girls grabbed my shoulders, holding me in place. I had no choice but to take the slap. A fiery sting exploded across my cheek. I clenched my jaw, the pressure on my shoulders intensifying. Fighting back was pointless; I was outnumbered and outmatched. A drop of cold sweat trickled down my temple. This was bad. System, help me, I pleaded silently, my voice trembling in my head. The cold, mechanical voice replied. I am here, Host. What do I do? I think this is it for me. The system paused for a moment before answering. Host, this is part of your mission. I am unable to intervene. … The girl who slapped me let out a derisive snort, patting my cheek condescendingly. “You really think you’re worthy of Jasper?” I looked at her face, twisted with jealousy, and shrank back. Ugly, I thought. Seeing my lack of reaction, she assumed I was terrified into silence and raised her hand to slap me again. I bit down hard, forcing myself to stay calm, to not give her the satisfaction of a reaction. Her friends jeered, their eyes filled with malice. “Hey, why don’t we strip her down and take a few videos?” “Hahaha, you’re so bad! We can send them to Jasper and see what he thinks…” At that, they actually started pulling out their phones. A pack of vicious hyenas. Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through me. I couldn’t let them do this. I could feel sweat trickling down my back, my shirt sticking to my skin. I dug my nails into my palm, the sharp sting helping to clear my head. I scanned my surroundings for a weapon, anything I could use. Nothing. With two of them pinning my shoulders, my chances of fighting my way out were zero. As my mind raced, a deafening BOOM echoed from the bathroom door. “Shit!” the leader cursed, startled. The person outside started kicking the door, each impact a thunderous, relentless crash that shook the entire room. The girls exchanged panicked glances. Before the door could be kicked off its hinges, one of them scrambled to unlock it. The door flew open and a figure strode in, her gaze sweeping over the group before landing on me, crumpled on the floor. My eyes met hers, and my breath caught. Violet? “What do you want?” the leader demanded, but her voice lacked its earlier bravado. She sounded… nervous. There’s an unwritten rule in the social jungle of high school: you can pick on the quiet kids, but you never, ever mess with the crazy ones. As much as these girls acted like they owned the place, even they knew to give Violet a wide berth. Violet let out a strange, humorless laugh. “I was just coming to use the restroom,” she said. She was tall, a full head taller than any of the girls in the circle. They swallowed nervously. One of them, trying to act tough, stepped in front of me. “Well, your timing sucks. Get out.” Violet sneered and closed the distance between them in a single, fluid motion. The next second, she had kicked the girl squarely in the stomach, grabbed a handful of her hair, and shoved her face-first into a sink, cranking the faucet to full blast. “Why don’t you take a moment to cool off,” Violet hissed, her voice dripping with venom, “and think about who really needs to get out.” Water gushed from the tap, overflowing the sink and spilling onto the floor. Bullies always pick the weakest target. Faced with someone who fought back harder, they faltered. Violet’s brutal efficiency had stunned the others into silence. I peeked up through my lashes and found her looking right at me. I was suddenly, intensely aware of how pathetic I must look. The moment our eyes met, I dropped my gaze, staring at the grimy floor. For some reason, I didn’t want her to see me like this. Violet must have seen the red mark on my cheek, because her expression turned murderous as she looked at the girl who had hit me. “You did this?” The girl flinched. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stammered. “It was her,” I said suddenly, my voice quiet but clear. The girl shot me a look of pure hatred, but with Violet standing over her, she tried to bluff her way out. “So what if it was? I was doing you a favor! You have no idea, this snake pretends to be nice to you, but the person she really likes is—” SLAP. The sharp crack of a hand hitting a cheek cut her off. Violet’s face was a dark storm cloud. “Don’t you dare presume to know what other people are thinking,” she snarled. “I don’t need you to tell me anything.” “You!” the girl cried, clutching her face, tears welling in her eyes. SLAP. Another slap, harder this time, sent the girl stumbling back, sobbing openly. Violet grabbed her by the collar, slamming her against the wall. “From now on,” she warned, her voice a low, dangerous growl, “you will not touch her. You will not look at her. You will not even think about her.” She let go abruptly. The girl slid to the floor in a heap. Her friends scrambled to pull her up, practically dragging her out of the bathroom as they fled. … The chaotic restroom was suddenly silent. It was just the two of us. Violet’s menacing aura dissipated. She held out a hand to me. “Get up.” I placed my hand in hers, and she gently pulled me to my feet. “Why didn’t you fight back?” she asked. I managed a small smile. Seeing her look so serious was a novelty, and a wicked little impulse took root in my mind. I decided to tease her. I let my body go limp, falling against her and pressing my lips close to her ear. “Because I can’t fight,” I whispered. “But that’s okay… you came.” Her body went stiff. She turned her head away with a soft “Hmph.” She didn’t say anything, but I could feel her heart hammering against her chest, a fast, frantic rhythm. Thump-thump-thump. It seemed she was just as shaken as I was. In silence, she took off her school jacket and tied it around my waist, hiding my wet pants. She stood there for a long moment, just looking at me. In her eyes, those glass-like orbs that were usually so dark and shadowed, a strange new emotion seemed to flicker. For the first time, I saw her smile. It was a small, fleeting thing, but it was there. “Useless,” she said, her voice laced with an odd sort of affection. After that day, things settled down. I kept the system’s mission in mind, dutifully feeding Jasper a daily dose of cheesy lines. But his affinity gains slowed to a crawl, the numbers inching up by pathetic increments of 0.01. It was like trying to get a discount on Temu. My confidence began to wane. True to Violet’s word, the bullies never bothered me again. But her attitude towards me… changed. It grew subtle, yet insistent. She started seeking me out, stuffing my pockets with snacks and candy. She’d walk with me to the restroom between every class, claiming she was worried I’d get into trouble again. I always told her she was being paranoid, but she would just look at me with that strange, intense gaze, bite her lip, and say nothing. It was almost as if her object of affection had shifted from Jasper to me. But that was impossible. I knew who she loved. It had always been Jasper. As Violet and I grew closer, the missing pieces of that diary I’d found finally clicked into place. … “My mother was my father’s old flame,” she told me one afternoon, her voice flat. “She swore she would never see that heartless bastard again.” “But she had no one, and she got sick. Really sick. I was just a little kid. In the end, she had no choice. She went to him, crying, begging him to take me in.” “He’s a cold man, but because of some inconvenient blood tie, he let me stay.” “So I took his last name and entered the Vance family.” “He had just divorced Jasper’s mother at the time, so my arrival… it made people talk.” “Gossip is a powerful weapon,” she said, a bitter edge to her voice. “They called me the other woman’s child. A born bad seed.” I understood completely. At an age where a moral compass is still forming, kids will always find a target for their self-righteous cruelty. I remembered the words in her diary, the fear-filled school days, and a pang of sympathy went through me. Violet gave a self-deprecating smile. “But then, right when everyone was against me, Jasper stood up for me. He stood in front of them and shouted, ‘Violet is not a bad seed! She’ll always be my sister!’” “Everyone else laughed at me, hated me. But my brother… he was different.” She looked down, fiddling with her fingers. “When you’re lost in the dark, you tend to romanticize any light you find. I was no different.” She lifted her eyes to meet mine. “Back then, my brother was my entire world. That’s why… I didn’t want anyone to take him from me.” Even though I’d pieced most of it together, hearing it from her directly was still affecting. “Violet…” “But after I met you,” she cut in, her tone shifting as a bright smile broke across her face, “I realized… you’re a really, really good person. You’re so good that… I almost want to keep you all to myself.” Our eyes met. I froze. She just laughed, a light, easy sound. “I’m kidding. As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.” Her words left me speechless. She only felt this way because of a series of accidental misunderstandings on my part. I bit my lip, unsure how to respond. She reached out and playfully ruffled my hair. “From now on,” she said softly, “I’ll only be this good to you.” I turned my head away. “You give up on your convictions pretty easily.” She didn’t answer, just smiled.

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Vivian Sterling didn’t like me, her fiancé from out of town. To make me call off the engagement, she found a scholarship student at our school to impersonate her. “One’s new money, the other’s too poor to eat. A perfect match.” “I bet the new-money kid won’t last three days. He’ll definitely cancel the engagement.” The scholarship student was beautiful in a cold, fragile way, quiet and reserved. I fell for it completely. I thought the Sterling family had really gone bankrupt, that she couldn’t even afford a proper meal. My dad’s words echoed in my ears: “Son, bankrupt is bankrupt. We don’t look down on people for being poor. We’ve got the money to support her.” So, when she was hungry, I gave her food. When she worked part-time, I acted as her bodyguard. When her mom was hospitalized, I paid the bills… I took good care of my destitute fiancée. Until the day a beautiful girl snatched the breakfast I had carefully prepared. I was about to lose my temper when she looked at me, a defiant glint in her eyes. “Leo Nash, look closely. I’m your fiancée—” 1 My dad told me I had a fiancée in the city. To let me decide whether I wanted to go through with it, and to make sure I got into a good college, he transferred me in my junior year—right into Vivian Sterling’s class. I heard the Sterling family was the wealthiest in Crestwood, with deep roots. My dad even had me bring a bunch of expensive gifts. But when I got off the train, no one from the Sterling family was there to meet me. I was a little annoyed at first, but when I got to school and saw a thin girl in a faded t-shirt who I thought was Vivian, my anger vanished. A classmate I met on the way had kindly shown me the way after looking at the photo I was holding. “Junior class, room 3? You’re looking for Vivian Sterling? Oh, I know her. I’ll take you.” She was the one who pointed her out to me. I followed her finger and saw a girl sitting by the window, her back straight, looking delicate and clean. The afternoon sun, filtered through the leaves outside, cast a gentle light on her profile. A breeze rustled a few strands of her hair, revealing a smooth forehead and a strong browline. I looked down at the photo, then back at her. The classmate’s sympathetic voice rang in my ears. “You didn’t know? The Sterling family went bankrupt two years ago. Now Vivian has to rely on school aid and work part-time after school. Sometimes she’s so broke she can’t even afford to eat.” Our families hadn’t been in close contact, and it wasn’t like the Sterlings would broadcast their bankruptcy to my small town. I let out a small gasp and nodded, promising her I wouldn’t spread it around. “This is our new transfer student, Leo Nash. Everyone, please welcome him,” the teacher announced, pointing to an empty seat in the back. “You can sit there for now.” I looked up. It was right next to “Vivian.” From the moment I entered the classroom to when the teacher assigned my seat, she never looked up. She was completely focused on what she was writing. I had to walk behind her to get to my seat. As I passed, my backpack snagged on something. I gave a slight tug, and an old enamel mug fell out of her desk. It clattered on the floor, and the half-eaten piece of a hard, dry bun inside tumbled out, collecting a layer of dust. I saw her shoulders flinch almost imperceptibly. Her grip on her pen tightened, but she didn’t turn around. I heard a few muffled snickers from nearby and saw a couple of girls whispering behind her back, their eyes full of disdain. So, things were really this bad for her. The vibrant, high-spirited girl in the old photos was now so poor she couldn’t afford a real meal. I bit my lip, sat down, and apologized in a low voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” She still didn’t look at me, just silently took the mug I’d picked up and put it back in her desk. “I’m Leo Nash. Do you remember me?” I tilted my head, leaning closer to get a better look at her. We had met once, when she was six. I’ve always had a thing for pretty faces, just like my mom, and little Vivian had been exquisite. I hadn’t wanted to let her go. Of course, that was before I introduced her to the chickens and one of them pecked her on the butt. She hadn’t spoken to me since. Thankfully, she’d grown up just as beautiful. My sudden movement startled her. She leaned back slightly, her eyes cast down as she looked at me. Her eyes were stunning, like gleaming black gems. Her long, dark lashes curtained her cool gaze, making her seem a little less distant. But after the initial surprise, she still didn’t speak. I scratched my head. “I’m your fiancé, remember?” She was taking a sip of water and choked, coughing quietly. I quickly patted her back. When she recovered, she looked at me with a strange expression, a faint blush on her pale cheeks. Maybe she didn’t remember. Or maybe bankruptcy had changed her. Either way, I got the message. We could just start over as friends. I smiled and held out my hand. “Well, we’re desk-mates now. I’m Leo Nash. It’s nice to meet you. By the way, can I ask you for a favor?” I expected her to ignore me again, but this time she spoke, her voice still icy. “I don’t have time.” 2 Meanwhile, the classmate who had so kindly guided me had ducked into a stairwell, where a group of similarly well-dressed teens were waiting. Becca bounced on her heels, addressing the beautiful girl at the center of the group. “Vivian, it’s done! That new kid is totally clueless.” “He believed every word I said. I pointed out Iris Thorne and told him the Sterlings went bankrupt and you couldn’t even afford to eat. His jaw practically hit the floor.” “He even saw Iris’s pathetic little bun. I mean, who would want to marry into that kind of charity case?” “I give him three days, tops. He’ll be begging his dad to call off the engagement.” Vivian Sterling looked impatient, but she still confirmed, “Are you sure it’ll only take three days? He really bought it?” “I saw the photo he has. It’s just a side profile of you. It looks close enough to Iris. No one would question it.” “I also told him that after the bankruptcy, you changed your name to avoid debt collectors. He definitely believes it. If he ever runs into you, just say you have the same name. That way he can’t latch onto you.” Vivian stuck her hands in her pockets, her beautiful features relaxing slightly. “Some new-money hick from the sticks. Who even does arranged marriages anymore?” “Exactly! The Sterlings are an established family. If there’s an engagement, it should be with someone from an equally prominent family, like your sister and the heir to the Jenson Corporation. Why are you stuck with some country bumpkin?” “I know, right? My mom has been throwing a fit about this for days, even went on a hunger strike to try and get my dad to cancel it.” “But my dad listens to whatever my grandfather says, and the old man is all about honor and loyalty. He’s determined to fulfill some promise he made to an old war buddy.” “By the way, I think your fiancé is actually…” Vivian shot her a cold look, and Becca quickly corrected herself. “That country kid is pretty hot. I snapped a picture. Wanna see? Maybe he’s your type after all.” Vivian scoffed. “Are you kidding me? You know my standards. You really think I’d be interested in someone from the middle of nowhere?” Becca scratched her head, muttering, “He’s really cute, though. Way better looking than that pretty-boy captain of the football team you used to date.” 3 I knew nothing about any of this. At that moment, my world revolved around Iris. Yes, she had told me her name was Iris Thorne. The other students called her that, too. The Sterling family must have changed her name to hide from their debts. I spent the whole day trying to talk to her. She barely responded, sometimes pretending she hadn’t heard me at all. But I’m a chatterbox, a trait I inherited from my dad, who can talk to a cow for an entire day. Plus, I’m naturally outgoing, so I can carry a one-sided conversation with ease. “Hey, do you know any good places to eat in Crestwood? It’s my first day, I don’t know anything.” “Do you live on campus or commute?” “Huh, this is different from what I learned back in my old school.” “Where’s the water fountain? I’m so thirsty.” Finally, unable to take it anymore, she whispered, “Pay attention in class.” After a pause, she added, “The water fountain is outside room 4. You can go after class.” When the bell rang, I’d already forgotten about the water. I rushed to call my dad and told him about the Sterling family’s bankruptcy. He was shocked. “What? How did that happen? Well, son, it is what it is. We can’t judge people for being poor. These are the times that show a person’s true character. If you really like the girl, we’ll just support her.” I nodded. It wasn’t exactly that I liked her. It was just that Iris was in such a pitiful situation. I didn’t have much of anything, except money. And money was what she needed most right now. Our family’s wealth was new. My dad got rich the year I was born, starting in real estate and then getting into tech. We were definitely what people online called “new money,” especially compared to a multi-generational family like the Sterlings. But being new money had its perks. My dad handed me credit cards without blinking. I could have bought the entire lounge where Iris worked part-time, but I didn’t. It took me a few days of pestering her to find out where she worked. At night, Iris was different. She was dressed more casually, her hair slightly tousled. I had followed her secretly, so when she saw me, her brow furrowed deeply. “Who let you come to a place like this?” She pulled me into the stairwell. “Why are you here?” She was much more talkative now. I pulled a sandwich out of my backpack and stuffed it into her hand. Iris froze, her hand hovering in mid-air. “Eat it,” I urged. “I just bought too many, and the owner said they’d expire by tomorrow. I can’t finish them all, and it’s a waste of food. You’d be doing me a favor.” I had done my research. Iris worked at least three jobs every day after school. First, handing out flyers, then running a food cart, and finally, working at this lounge. She never ate the food from her own cart, even though a single serving was only a few dollars. She’d either eat the bun she brought from home or wait for leftover snacks from the lounge customers. Over the past few days, I had gotten to know my classmates. Many of them warned me to stay away from Iris. They said she was weird, always gloomy, never talking to anyone. They told me she had a mother with kidney failure and a disabled younger sister. Strange. Was Vivian Sterling’s mother that sick? I didn’t dare ask Iris, afraid of hurting her feelings. “Why?” Iris clutched the sandwich, her eyes cast down. I waved my hand dismissively, my eyes wide. “Why not? You’re my desk-mate. And you helped me with that math problem today.” I nodded firmly. “That’s right! My dad said he’d break my legs if I don’t get into a good college. Iris, this is a bribe. This sandwich isn’t free. You have to help me with my homework again tomorrow.” I had caught a glimpse of her test scores earlier. The girl got a near-perfect score in advanced calculus. She bit her lip. “Aren’t you… disgusted by me?” My eyes widened. “Why would I be?” I leaned in and sniffed around her dramatically. “Don’t you know how clean your mom washes your clothes? I sit next to you all day, and the wind always brings this nice, clean soap scent over to me. Look at my clothes…” I held up my own dirty sleeve. “I’m way dirtier than you. Are you disgusted by me?” In the dim light of the stairwell, Iris looked up at me. Her eyes were as bright as stars. She clutched the sandwich and shook her head. I lifted my chin proudly. “That’s more like it. I’m your fi—” I caught myself just in time. 4 Iris got off work ten minutes early to walk me home, stuffing a notebook full of her study notes into my backpack. My dad had bought me a house in the Clearwater Estates villa district before I even arrived. Since my mom passed away, he’s been overprotective. He had even planned to take a leave of absence from work to come with me, but I managed to talk him out of it. Instead, he hired a housekeeper to look after me. As we neared the entrance to the villas, I quickly changed direction, leading Iris down a different street with more modest houses. Her family had lost everything; seeing a neighborhood full of mansions would only make her feel worse. “This is my place!” I pointed randomly at a house. “You should get home, too.” Iris looked up at the house, then reached out and patted my shoulder. “See you tomorrow, desk-mate.” If any of our classmates had been there, they would have been shocked. The quiet, lifeless Iris suddenly seemed animated, as if a spark of hope had been lit within her for the tomorrows that were usually so bleak. After she left, I ran back to my actual house. I was sprinting around a corner when I almost collided with someone. Quick reflexes saved us; a hand shot out and steadied me. I looked up into a stunningly beautiful face. I frowned in confusion. She looked familiar… a lot like Iris. But why was she just staring at me? I waved a hand in front of her face. “Hey, I’m fine. You can let go now.” She blinked, then quickly dropped her hand. “Sorry.” I shrugged it off and started to walk away. “Are you also from Crestwood High…?” she called out from behind me. But at that exact moment, my puppy came bounding out to greet me. Forgetting everything else, I ran to him, scooping him up in my arms. Vivian Sterling stood frozen, watching the boy and his dog disappear around the corner. By the time she snapped out of it and tried to follow, they were long gone. She opened her group chat. “Does anyone at our school know a really tall, handsome guy with big, round eyes and a small mole on his nose?” Someone replied: “Ooh, where’d you meet a new hottie? Love at first sight?” “No way, Vivian’s standards are sky-high. She wouldn’t even look at the football captain. It can’t be love at first sight.” Vivian propped her legs up on the coffee table, staring at the words “love at first sight” for a long time. “Cut the crap. Have you seen him or not?” “Well, I’ve seen guys with moles, guys with big eyes, and tall guys. But that specific combination? Nope.” “Don’t worry, girl. I’ll be on patrol for you tomorrow. If he goes to Crestwood High, he can’t hide.” Vivian replied lazily, “Get it done, and there’s a big reward in it for you.” Vivian Sterling had it all: family money and stunning looks. She had a natural confidence that came with knowing she could have anyone she wanted. 5 After class the next day, Iris bent down and took the broom from my hand. “You can just sit.” The setting sun painted the classroom windows a warm honey color. Iris expertly swept the floor, her hands familiar with the worn wooden handle. “Do you do this often?” I asked, sitting on her desk and swinging my legs. She hummed in agreement. “People pay me to do their cleaning duty. Ten bucks a session.” She glanced at me nervously. “I didn’t mean—” I jumped off the desk, grabbed the mop, and said indignantly, “That’s a rip-off! Ten bucks to clean this huge classroom? They’re worse than my dad!” The cicadas outside suddenly seemed very loud. Iris looked down at the floor, and for the first time, the tedious chore didn’t seem so bad. When we were done, Iris prepared to head to her food cart. She turned to me. “I wrote down the solutions for today’s problems on the back of your notes. You can review them tonight. If you still don’t understand something, I’ll explain it to you tomorrow.” I wasn’t paying attention to that. “Can I come with you to your food cart?” Iris hesitated. “Most students use this time to study. It’s easy to fall behind otherwise.” In the end, she didn’t agree. She seemed genuinely afraid my dad would break my legs. When I found her cart on my own, she was hunched over the grill, wearing an apron, stir-frying noodles for a customer. She saw me, and her spatula paused for a fraction of a second. “What are you doing here?” “A friend of yours?” a gentle voice asked from the side. “Are you Iris’s classmate?” I turned and saw her mother. She was thin, likely from her illness, but you could still see the beautiful bone structure of her face. “Hello, ma’am. I’m Iris’s desk-mate,” I said with a smile. She looked pleased, the pale strands of her hair glowing in the warm yellow light. “Young man, would you like some noodles? My Iris… she doesn’t usually have friends over. Let me make you some, on the house.” Iris gently pushed her back down and glanced at me. “You sit. I’ll do it.” I grinned at her, my eyes urging her on: Hurry up, I’m starving! Without a word, Iris turned and started pulling ingredients from a cooler. Two fresh eggs sizzled in the hot oil, followed by a generous scoop of shredded pork, sliced sausage, shrimp, and a secret meat sauce. The aroma was incredible. Finally, she tossed in fresh greens, bean sprouts, and a bundle of noodles, stir-frying everything over a high flame. She plated a heaping portion that looked as good as it smelled. I glanced at the menu and saw she’d made me the deluxe version, the most expensive item. She set the bowl in front of me and watched nervously as I picked up my chopsticks. “Try it.” I took a huge bite and immediately gave her a thumbs-up. Her cooking was amazing. A moment later, I was clutching the empty bowl, my eyes red. “Iris, why do your noodles taste like my mom’s cooking? I miss my mom…” Seeing my teary eyes, Iris panicked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” I just stared at her. She was so sweet. How could anyone be so sweet? Her bangs fell softly over her beautiful eyes, and that brilliant mind, capable of solving the most complex equations, was now fumbling for words, only able to say “I’m sorry.” I remembered the Vivian from my childhood—a beautiful but proud little swan. These past few years must have been incredibly hard on her. I tilted my head. “You’re going to be successful.” “Huh?” she blinked. “What?” I didn’t say any more. I had never met anyone like Iris. She was standing in mud, but she remained pristine. She was brilliant, consistently ranking first in our grade despite having so little time to study. A temporary loss of shine meant nothing. I knew, with absolute certainty, that Iris Thorne would succeed at whatever she did. 6 I gave Iris her space over the weekend. My hands were itching for some action, so I found a local racing club. I hadn’t been on a track since I arrived in Crestwood. But I was turned away at the door. “Sorry, kid. We’re closed for a private event today.” I pointed to the sign. “But your sign says you’re open.” “Ah, that’s a mistake on our part. Sorry.” I was dejected. It had been hard to find a club with a decent track. I’d loved riding since I was a kid, starting with cows and graduating to bikes. After I discovered racing, my dad sent me abroad to train for a few months. When I was fifteen, he’d sneakily handed me a folder. Inside was the deed to a large plot of hilly land just east of the city—the perfect terrain for the custom track I’d been dreaming of for months. Just as I was about to leave, a gust of wind blew past me. A familiar, beautiful face stopped in front of me. “It’s you!” she said, her voice full of pleasant surprise. It took me a moment to recognize her as the girl from the other night. “You race?” She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. I nodded confidently. “I do. Too bad I can’t get on the track today.” She gestured to the manager who had just been arguing with me, and he immediately backed away. She turned back to me. “How about a race? I’m a fan, too. Think of it as a friendly competition. After this, you can come to the club whenever you want.” I shrugged. I was never one to back down from a challenge. The moment the light turned green, both our cars shot off the line. I saw her car take the first turn with incredible precision, cutting tightly along the inside instead of the standard line. It was clear she’d had professional training. I smiled and wrenched my steering wheel. Too bad for her. She was still no match for me. When the checkered flag fell, her car was nowhere in sight. Back in the lounge, my phone rang. “Kid, it’s about that girl, Iris. Some guys just trashed her food cart. I’m watching now. Are you coming?” I couldn’t follow Iris 24/7, so I’d hired someone to keep an eye on things. I hung up, changed my clothes, and ran out without another word. When Vivian Sterling found the lounge, I was long gone. “Where is he?” she demanded of the manager. “He left. Said something came up. Didn’t even wait a second.” The manager tried to flatter her. “Miss Sterling, I’ve never seen you go so easy on someone. You’re really willing to humble yourself to chase a guy…” Vivian tossed her helmet aside, ignoring him. Go easy on him? Hell no. She had actually lost, to an amateur, even when she was going all out. But she wasn’t angry. A smile played on her lips. She was starting to really like this kid. She opened her group chat and dropped in a photo, her fingers flying across the screen. “See? This is fate. Ran into him again today.” “Hot, right? Even hotter when he’s racing. I’ll take you guys to see him sometime.” The chat exploded with replies, some complimenting the photo, others teasing Vivian for finally falling for someone. Only Becca was quiet. After a long pause, she sent a single picture. “Oh, crap, Vivian.” “You are seriously cursed. The guy you’re crushing on… isn’t that your fiancé from the sticks?” “That new-money kid. Look at our pictures. Aren’t they the same person?” “From what I hear, he really thinks Iris is you. He’s been treating her like a queen.” “This is a total disaster.” Vivian sat up straight. She opened Becca’s photo and stared at it, her heart sinking. After a long moment, she slowly typed back: “What did you just say?”

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The real heiress returned, and I was thrown out. Sobbing, I called the fiancé from my arranged marriage. “I’m sorry,” I choked out, “I’m not your fiancée anymore. We should break up.” His reply was firm. “Break up? No way. We’re not breaking up.” And now, he’s standing in front of the tiny apartment I just rented, loaded down with bags, staring at me as I stare back at him. He stated it simply. “Because I’m a fake, too.” 1 Landon and I stood there, face to face, in the cramped doorway of my new apartment. Tears clung to my lashes, threatening to fall, but the absurdity of the moment held them back. The fake heiress and the fake heir. A matched set. I stammered, “You… when did you find out?” Landon thought for a moment. “They told you this morning, right?” I nodded. “For me, it was this afternoon.” The tears wouldn’t come anymore. When I first found out, my immediate thought was that it was over between Landon and me. He was handsome, wealthy, and didn’t mind my quiet, reserved personality. He was the perfect partner I had always dreamed of. Without my status as an heiress, our future was impossible. But now, it wasn’t over. Or maybe it was. Honestly, it might have been better if it were. Landon bent down and started effortlessly moving his bags inside, leaving me stunned. “Let me crash here until I find a new place, okay… fiancée?” He was tall and lean, with a strength that didn’t fit the image of a disowned heir. I sniffled. “Don’t call me that.” Landon paused, turning to look at me. The lump in my throat grew. “It makes us sound pathetic. Poor and trying to pretend we’re not.” I was being honest. This whole scenario felt like some tragic indie romance with a CEO trope. People online would laugh at us for days. A laugh escaped Landon’s lips. “Sloane, I never realized you were such a proud little thing.” I covered my face with my hands. 2 I sat on the sofa, surveying the room. The small space was now cluttered with luggage and boxes. And a very long-legged Landon. The apartment was tiny to begin with, but with him in it, it felt like there was no room to even stretch. The more I thought about it, the more miserable I felt. Tears began to stream down my face again. “Hey, don’t cry.” Landon’s voice was gentle as he reached out with a tissue to dab at my tears. “Your eyes will get all puffy.” I turned my head away. “Back then… when I cried, how did you used to comfort me?” Landon considered it carefully. “Well, I’d come find you. We’d go out to eat, go shopping, see a movie. I’d help you bake your little cakes, and then I’d eat them.” Baking was my escape, and Landon was my most willing taste-tester. No one else in my family would touch my sweet, decadent pastries. Too sinful, too bourgeois. I shook my head softly. That wasn’t what I meant. Back then, when I cried, he had to cross half the estate just to wipe away my tears. Now, his arm was practically too long for the short distance between us. Landon’s shoulders started to shake. I thought he was crying, too. I looked down. He was smiling, a wide, brilliant smile. “…” I retreated to a corner, wrapped in my misery. 3 I never would have realized how capable Landon was if we hadn’t been thrown out. While I was still drowning in my sorrow, he had already unpacked, organized everything, and cleaned the entire apartment from top to bottom. I was flabbergasted. Unfazed, he smoothed a sheet over the mattress and asked me the most important question. “Didn’t they give you any money when you left? Why did you rent a place this small? Can you even sleep here?” There was only one bed. All my valuables had been confiscated. That morning, when Scarlett and my mother—no, her mother—walked in to break the news to me, she had ordered me to leave everything behind. She said Scarlett had suffered for too many years in my place, and now it was my turn to taste that same hardship. Scarlett’s expression had been placid, a mirror image of her mother’s. No wonder she’d always suspected I wasn’t her biological daughter. We were complete opposites. I was an introvert, mild-mannered and quiet. She was a social powerhouse, decisive and commanding. My adoptive mother had never shown me much warmth, and now, knowing the truth, she’d retracted what little affection she had left. “Sloane, what’s your plan now?” Landon asked. The only plan was to take it one day at a time. I could survive on my own. I had to. He finished with the bed. “There’s only one bed. I’ll take the couch.” I was silent for a moment. I hadn’t really planned on him staying. But then… I pictured Landon’s long legs cramped up on that tiny sofa. It was just too pitiful. I slowly edged closer to him. “Landon, how long have we been together?” “We’ve known each other for 1,342 days. We’ve been a couple for 312 days.” I was shocked. “How do you remember that so clearly?” “Sorry, Sloane. It’s the OCD. I have to be perfect about everything.” Ah, that explained it. I cleared my throat and adopted a serious tone. “Well, since we’ve been a couple for over… three hundred days… I guess sleeping in the same bed isn’t a huge deal. You don’t have to take the couch.” I was worried he wouldn’t sleep well. It was the old me, always worrying that everyone around me was uncomfortable, even if I couldn’t provide them with the best conditions. I didn’t want him waking up with an aching back. Moonlight streamed through the window, casting one half of his face in shadow and making the strong line of his nose even more pronounced. He sat up. “Sloane, do you know what you’re saying?” For the first time, he looked genuinely serious. “What’s wrong?” I asked, confused. Landon softened his tone. “If you were with any other guy, you should never, ever agree to share a bed just because you’ve known him for a while.” But I wouldn’t be with any other guy. Tears started to well up in my eyes again. I thought I understood his hidden meaning. “Are you trying to break up with me?” I would understand. Just as I had never expected our engagement to last after the news broke. Oh, I couldn’t call it an engagement anymore. That was just pretending. Landon moved closer to me, his voice a low murmur. “Forget it.” He nodded slightly. “Because that other guy is me. And that will never change.” I was even more confused now. What was he even talking about? 4 We lay stiffly in bed. Or maybe it was just me. Landon was already asleep. His long, dark lashes rested against his cheeks. He had the most beautiful eyes. I reached out a hand to touch them, but in the next second, he pulled me into his arms. I froze. “Cheeseball…” he mumbled in his sleep. Cheeseball was his cat. Had he been kicked out without even a chance to find a place for his cat? How tragic. I lay nestled in his arms, not daring to move, afraid of waking him. His scent was light and clean, a comforting fragrance that made me feel dizzy and safe all at once. I drifted in and out of a light sleep all night. In the morning, Landon saw the dark circles under my eyes and asked if I hadn’t slept well. What did he think? I forced a laugh. “I’m okay… I’m just not used to sleeping with someone else.” I looked down, hiding my face. The truth was, I had woken up very early. I opened my eyes to find us tangled together like an octopus, and my heart had nearly skipped a beat. It took all my effort to untangle myself without him noticing. Thankfully, Landon acted like nothing was out of the ordinary. “Habits can change. Come on, let’s have breakfast.” What did he mean, habits can change? Before I could ponder it, the scent of a delicious breakfast captured my full attention. “Landon, you can cook?” He sat down, placing a piece of toast on my plate, and raised an eyebrow. “You still don’t know me very well, do you?” I ate in shame. On the 312th day of our relationship, I hadn’t even known that he could cook. “It’s not your fault, Sloane,” he said, gently wiping a crumb from the corner of my mouth. “We never really had a chance to get to know each other in that environment.” All we had were clinking glasses and formal dinners. Our marriage was a bargaining chip for our families. Every meal was a business meeting, with a table full of people talking shop. We never had a moment alone. In the three years we’d known each other, we had remained polite strangers. Before, after a meal like that, I would have retreated to my little kitchen to experiment with baking, never having to worry about where my next meal came from. Now, I was stuck in this tiny apartment with nothing to do. I felt like such a failure. If I were just a lucky, useless person, I could have been useless forever. But fate had taken back its joke, and now I was just a useless person with bad luck. A tide of anxiety and insecurity washed over me, pulling me under. I braced myself. “Landon, I can’t support you. There’s no future for you with me. Maybe we should just…” Forget it. “Sloane.” Landon cut me off, his gaze intense. “If you’re trying to kick me out, I really have nowhere else to go.” I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Would you really do that to me?” That handsome face, those deep, beautiful eyes, were mesmerizing. Would you really do that? I have to admit, my heart softened. A flicker of pleasure crossed his eyes. He lowered his voice, making it soft and pleading. “Sloane, you’re all I have.” 5 Honestly, that one sentence gave me a new surge of strength. No one had ever needed me so desperately. In the Sutton family, I was always on the periphery. I struggled with the decision. But if I let Landon stay, how was I supposed to support both of us? Have a handsome husband to feed. Am desperate. Landon sat beside me, his voice a soft, alluring whisper. He told me he could cook, he could clean, he would wait for me to come home, and he could even go out and earn money himself. He could do anything. He added one last thing. “I just want a home I can come back to.” A tingling sensation shot up from the soles of my feet. I turned my head and found our noses were almost touching. His handsome face was right there. No one understood the power of eye contact better than Landon. He was devastatingly good-looking. Everything looked good on him. Even a simple white t-shirt and jeans looked like couture. I remembered how he had always been the center of attention in our circle, a golden boy from birth. If the Sutton family hadn’t been a suitable match, and if the Conrads hadn’t wanted a less… flashy… partner for their son, the engagement never would have been offered to me. When we first met, he had been so considerate, never making me feel like there was a gap between us. Everyone expected his fiancée to be a sophisticated, capable woman. And then he introduced me. A girl who didn’t quite live up to anyone’s expectations. Well, now it was even worse. I wasn’t even a real heiress. And if Landon was broke… well, a lot of people would probably be thrilled to see him broke. “Landon.” “Hmm?” I clenched my fists. “I think… I think we can make this work.” His eyes seemed to light up. I gritted my teeth. So what if we were a fake heiress and a fake heir? Just because we’d lost our golden ticket didn’t mean we couldn’t live, right? 6 I threw myself into finding a job, working hard, and taking on overtime. Supporting myself wasn’t as difficult as I’d thought. Before I left the Sutton manor, I overheard Scarlett say something. “Sloane Sutton won’t survive. She doesn’t know how to do anything.” My adoptive mother’s voice was flat. “I know.” She knew. I forced a smile and pretended I hadn’t heard, feeling a strange mix of anger and resignation. She saw me as insignificant. She had never thought much of me. But look at me now. I’m surviving. I can even support Landon. Once the dust of my glamorous, empty life had settled, I discovered there were actually a lot of things I could do. Landon was more invested in my job than I was. Every day, he’d have dinner ready when I got home, and he’d start his daily interrogation at the dinner table. I’d answer all his questions in detail, but I was curious. “Why do you want to know about all these trivial things?” “My adoptive parents were very strict with me.” He rested his chin on his hand, his eyes dimming slightly. “The way I was raised always confused me. But I think a family… should be about sharing. Your life, your joys, your sorrows… as your family, I should know more about those things than anyone else.” A boy broken by his demanding parents. So that was it. Landon’s eyes crinkled into a smile. “It’s okay, Sloane. If you’re tired, you don’t have to tell me anything. Just relax and eat. I was just asking.” My head spun, and I quickly waved my hands, assuring him it was fine. My ears felt hot. He considered me family. And he wanted to hear about all the random little things in my day. That made me happy. Landon’s lips curved into a smile. He seemed happy, too. 7 Landon told me that his parents had given him some startup capital when they kicked him out. He wanted to use it to open a cake shop for me. I refused. I couldn’t take his money. His eyes fell. “Don’t be sad,” I said, panicking. He shook his head. “I’m not sad. I know you have your concerns, Sloane. We were only engaged in name before. Now, even that is gone. What right do I have to do this for you?” I didn’t know what to say. For the past few weeks, whenever I tried to pull back and create some distance, he would do that—he’d look down, just so. Landon’s lashes were long and his eyes were beautiful. When he lowered them, he had this melancholy look that I couldn’t quite describe. He was never like this before. He used to navigate business dinners and social events with a flawless smile, making it impossible to tell if it was genuine or a mask. He turned his face away, looking even more dejected. I felt a surge of anxiety. My priority was to cheer him up. “Okay, okay, I promise! I’ll do it. Just please don’t be sad.” He slowly turned back to me. “Really?” “Really.” His eyes curved into a smile. “Okay.” “…” Something felt a little off. I just couldn’t put my finger on it. 8 After the cake shop opened, I kept a meticulous record of the money I owed Landon. I planned to pay him back as soon as I started making a profit. But I couldn’t deny my gratitude. What was once a hobby had become my passion, and I found myself completely immersed in it. I simply loved to bake. Mrs. Sutton used to say my “little hobbies” were undignified and that she didn’t want to see me wasting my time on them. So, I baked in secret. I had no talent for piano, or ballet, or the cello—none of the skills that would have allowed me to compete with the other heiresses. Even when I tried, Mrs. Sutton would just scoff. I was once filled with anxiety and sadness, unsure of what to do or who to be. When they told me the heir of the Conrad family wanted an arranged marriage with me, my first thought was—Does he know how painfully average and boring I am? I didn’t dare ask. For the first time, Mrs. Sutton smiled at me. “Sloane,” she said, “you’re finally useful.” In that moment, I felt a wave of relief. I saw Landon, and the Conrad family, as my lifeline. I had seen countless arranged marriages in our circle, and most ended badly. But they always resulted in powerful alliances. That was enough. I was useful now. All I had to do was be a proper, obedient wife, and I could bake my little cakes in peace for the rest of my life. But Landon surprised me. He was a good person. A very, very good person. So good that I was starting to truly fall for him. 9 The cake shop was quiet, but business was steady. Perhaps years of dedication to my hobby had resulted in a genuine leap in quality. I received a lot of positive reviews. Many of them said things like this: [The owner is super sweet, beautiful, and so patient, just like her cakes. I get lost just talking to her.] Huh? What was that supposed to mean? My face would flush whenever I read comments like that. Maybe it was just a new way of expressing happiness? I’d been so sheltered and subdued in the Sutton household that such open displays of emotion made me a little shy. Landon, with a straight face, would periodically delete comments like these from the shop’s page. He was particularly sensitive to any sentence containing the word “owner.” “I don’t think they mean any harm,” I’d say quietly. “They sound like compliments.” “I know. They really like you,” Landon would reply with a small smile. “But Sloane, we should set these aside for now. If we get too many comments, it clogs up the feed for new customers.” Oh, I see. That made sense. Landon was probably right. The positive reviews kept pouring in. But for a while after that, Landon’s smiles seemed forced. I figured he was just exhausted. He was always so busy, and he had to take care of me, too. I made an effort to talk to him more, to share happy things from my day. If he was unhappy, it made me sad, too. It worked. Landon’s mood visibly brightened. He was even gentler and better than I could have imagined.

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A week before the wedding, my fiancé, Dan, abruptly changed the venue to the beach. His best friend, Leo, was teasing him about it. “You’re seriously changing the venue to the beach because Chloe likes it? And you didn’t even tell your fiancée? What if her whole family shows up at the wrong place?” “Besides,” Leo added, “will Elara even agree? I heard she was the one who insisted on the Aspen Ridge wedding.” Dan just shrugged, his voice laced with a casual indifference. “It’s fine. She’s so in love with me, she literally went blind for me. When has she ever not done what I wanted?” “She’s obsessed with this wedding,” he continued, “so she’ll check the details a hundred times. When she sees I changed the location, she’ll be the one to notify her family.” I stood frozen in the doorway, listening. After a long moment, I turned and walked away, pretending I’d heard nothing at all. On the morning of the wedding, Dan called me, his voice frantic. “Elara, where are you? The ceremony is about to start!” I gazed out the window at the soft, drifting snowflakes. “I’m already here,” I said. 1 The Aspen Ridge wedding was my idea from the very beginning. That place held a sacred meaning for Dan and me. But I never imagined he would discard it all on a whim, just for Chloe. My hand trembled as I stood in the doorway, afraid to make a sound. Leo frowned, clearly confused. “A wedding is about two people, man. You have to at least tell Elara, right? How is she supposed to prepare otherwise?” Dan waved a dismissive hand. “What’s there to prepare? Aspen Ridge is freezing. The beach is so much more comfortable.” “But this is a huge deal. To not even mention it to her… isn’t that a little disrespectful?” A flicker of irritation crossed Dan’s face. “If she knew, she’d ask a million questions, probably throw a fit, and then I’d have to waste time calming her down. It’s a hassle.” “Besides,” he said with a confident smirk, “she loves me. She’ll agree. I mean, come on, she lost her sight for me. Changing the wedding venue is nothing compared to that.” Another one of his friends chimed in with a sly grin. “We know what’s really going on. This is all for Chloe… I mean, a woman that beautiful? Who could say no?” “Haha, we all thought you’d marry Chloe back in the day. She’s gorgeous, and her family’s loaded.” At that, Dan’s expression darkened. “Shut up. I don’t want to hear that again. If Elara finds out and makes a scene, I’ll hold you all responsible.” The group just laughed. “Alright, alright, we’ll drop it. You’ve got it made. Elara would do anything for you.” Suddenly, Dan’s phone rang. The screen lit up with Chloe’s name. A wave of knowing smirks went around the room. “Speak of the devil, the real bride is calling.” Dan didn’t bother to correct them. His voice softened as he answered the phone. A playful, feminine laugh echoed from the other end. “Dan, you really ordered that gown for me? I heard there’s a six-month waiting list!” “Mmmhmm, I had a friend pull some strings and have it flown in from Milan. It’ll be here next week.” “But… wasn’t it terribly expensive?” “Only fifty thousand. If you like it, it’s worth it.” Chloe’s voice was thick with emotion. “You’re too good to me. I’ll be sure to wear it for you on the wedding day!” A gentle smile played on Dan’s lips. “Good. I’ll be waiting.” As soon as he hung up, his friends erupted in cheers. “Trying to upstage the bride, are we? Seriously, Dan, who are you marrying here, Elara or Chloe?” Dan just chuckled. “Elara and I are practically an old married couple already. It doesn’t matter what she wears… Chloe is different. She deserves something special.” I stood in the doorway, a bitter smile on my face. My wedding dress was bought off the rack, right here in the city. The day I tried it on, my vision was still blurry. I’d asked Dan to be my eyes. After the third dress, he’d sighed impatiently. “They all look fine. Just pick this one. It’s not like you can see the details anyway.” He rushed to pay. The receipt read $200. So, he was capable of planning thoughtful surprises. Just not for me. On the way home, I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, but the tears came anyway. Five years. For five whole years, I had naively believed that he understood me. When I first told him I wanted to get married at Aspen Ridge, he’d smiled and ruffled my hair. “Of course,” he’d said. In that moment, my heart had swelled. He remembers, I thought. He must remember. He had to remember that it was where we first met. Where I’d fallen and bled for him. Where I’d gripped his hand in a blizzard and whispered, “Don’t be afraid.” But he didn’t remember. Or maybe, it had never mattered to him at all. My doctor’s warning echoed in my mind: Emotional distress can hinder the recovery of your optic nerve. I tilted my head back, trying to force the tears back in, but a raw sob escaped my throat. Dan called. The background was a cacophony of loud music and shouting. “Elara, the guys are throwing me a bachelor party tonight. I won’t be home.” I paused for a beat. “Okay.” This “bachelor party” had been going on for three days now. At one in the morning, sleep was impossible. I scrolled through my social media feed. Leo had posted a nine-photo collage with the caption: One last night of freedom for the brother. The center photo was of Chloe, cheeks flushed, leaning drunkenly against Dan’s chest. His hand rested lightly on the small of her back. The comments were a flood of predictable remarks: “They look so good together. Such a shame.” “They were childhood sweethearts, you guys. Don’t be weird.” “@DanVance Better be careful, man! Don’t want Elara to get angry!” Dan himself had replied. “Elara won’t mind. If she makes a scene over something this small, we shouldn’t get married anyway.” I quietly liked his comment, turned off my phone, and went to bed. He was so certain I would tolerate it. Just like I tolerated him changing the wedding venue, tolerated the fifty-thousand-dollar dress for another woman, tolerated every single, “She’s just a friend.” But this time, I didn’t want to tolerate it anymore. I went to my follow-up appointment at the hospital alone. “I told you last time, your vision is still unstable. You need someone to accompany you,” the doctor chided gently. I offered a small smile. “I can manage.” As I left the hospital, a sudden downpour began. Through the rain-streaked window of a café, I saw them. Dan was holding up his phone, and Chloe was leaning against his shoulder, making a peace sign, their cheeks pressed together for a selfie. The designer bag sitting next to her was the one Dan had claimed last week was a “gift for a client.” I let out a humorless laugh and walked home through the storm. When Dan got back, I was just changing out of my soaked clothes. He looked up, startled. “What happened to you? You’re drenched.” “My follow-up appointment.” His expression froze. “That was today?” I laughed softly. “Yes. The third time I reminded you.” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I’ve just been so busy, I forgot. Anyway, your vision is better now, right? It’s not a big deal if you miss one.” I just stared at him. “The doctor said my optic nerve is still atrophying.” He was silent for a moment. When he looked up again, his eyes were hard. “Are you trying to remind me again that you went blind for my sake?” So that was it. My injury, the sacrifice I’d made, had become a tool of manipulation in his eyes. Seeing my silence, he suddenly flew into a rage. “There you go with that look again! So I forgot one time! Why do you always have to get upset over every little thing?” My gaze dropped to his collar. “You have blueberry jam on you,” I said softly. He instinctively reached up to wipe it, then froze. “You…” “Chloe’s new bag is nice,” I added, my voice calm. His face flushed a deep, angry red. He pointed a trembling finger at me. “Were you following me? Seriously? She was just having a bad day and needed someone to talk to!” “You know what her family situation is like! She only has me!” “Elara, can’t you just be a little more generous? This constant scorekeeping is getting old!” I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “What a coincidence. At my doctor’s appointment today, I ‘only had me’ too.” He flinched as if I’d struck him, then stammered, “It’s different… You have people who care about you…” Just then, his phone rang. It was Chloe again. He answered immediately. Her choked sobs came through the speaker. “Dan, I fell… It hurts so much…” “Don’t worry, I’m on my way!” He hung up and threw open the door. He paused, then glanced back at me. “You should take some time to reflect on your attitude. I’ll take you to the gift shop tomorrow to pick out the wedding favors.” He hesitated for a second longer. “And stop following me. It makes you look like a clown.” He was gone, but his words hung in the air. A clown? He was right. The only question was why it took me so long to see it. It seemed my blindness had started long before the accident. The drive to the gift shop was thick with an unbearable silence. I put in my earbuds and closed my eyes. Dan’s fingers tapped restlessly on the steering wheel. “The weather’s been great for the beach lately…” he said, his eyes darting in my direction. When I didn’t respond, he cleared his throat and spoke louder. “I heard the hotel at Golden Shores is really popular right now. A lot of celebrities have their weddings there.” I kept my eyes closed, offering only a noncommittal hum. He frowned, his voice taking on an impatient edge. “Elara, are you even listening to me?” I opened my eyes slightly. “I’m listening. So?” He was immediately at a loss for words. “…Nothing. Just making conversation.” A cool breeze drifted through the open window, clearing my head a little. “Dan,” I began, turning to face him. “About the wedding… is there anything you need to tell me?” It was the only time I would ask. And the last. He avoided my gaze, forcing a laugh. “I’m leaving it all to you. I trust your judgment.” I lowered my eyes, a wave of sadness washing over me. He was still acting. Even now, if he would just be honest, maybe I could still… No. It was too late. I clenched my fists. So this is what he did with my trust. He trampled all over it. Dan’s unease was palpable. I could practically hear his thoughts. She definitely knows. She’s just being difficult. I’ll smooth things over later. Inside the shop, I saw the mock-up for the custom pastries I’d ordered. The delicate, snow-capped mountain design was perfect. As I was about to sample one, a familiar voice chirped from behind me. “Dan? Did you come to buy me my favorite almond crisps?” I gritted my teeth. Her again? Chloe feigned surprise when she saw me, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh, Elara! I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there…” “Oh, are you two picking out wedding favors? The almond crisps here are to die for. Dan brings me here all the time!” My fingers tightened. He brought her here, many times. I had only found out about this place from my best friend. Chloe picked up a new item from the display. “Elara, you should try this one! It’s perfect for a beach setting, amazing with champagne!” I took a small step back. “No, thank you. I’ve already made my choice. You two enjoy yourselves.” Chloe looked taken aback, her expression shifting to one of wounded innocence. “Are you… upset because I’m here? I-I can leave.” Dan immediately grabbed her wrist. “Elara didn’t mean that. You don’t have to go.” He turned to me, his gaze intense. “Elara, Chloe is going to be your bridesmaid. Don’t be so harsh, you’ll scare her.” I blinked. When was that decided? Weren’t bridesmaids something the bride was supposed to choose? But then again, if he could change the entire wedding venue without my consent, why would he bother asking me about this? “This is who I am,” I replied, my voice flat. “Take it or leave it.” They both stared at me, clearly shocked by my bluntness. Chloe’s eyes welled up with tears. “It’s okay, I should just go. I don’t want to be in the way.” But Dan held onto her hand, his fingers now intertwined with hers. “Elara, you’re about to be a married woman. Can you stop being so childish?” “Ever since we set the date, you’ve been nothing but moody. What’s the point?” Chloe leaned closer to him, whispering, “Dan, don’t…” But he was on a roll. “Don’t try to stop me! I’ve had enough!” He glared at me, his voice rising. “Go on, Elara, just keep acting out! Don’t blame me if you cry yourself blind again!” The shop fell into a dead silence. The staff stared at the floor, mortified. An icy dread settled in my heart. So that’s what he thought. My blindness… was just me “crying myself blind” out of jealousy. And I had actually hoped he would remember the meaning of our Aspen Ridge wedding. How many times had this happened? Chloe would call with a “headache” or “low blood sugar,” and Dan would drop everything to be by her side. I once had a 102-degree fever, but he was busy shopping with Chloe. All I got was a text: Drink lots of water. I’ll check on you later. He never showed up. Whenever I complained, it was always the same response. “Why are you so immature? Chloe really needs me!” For our anniversary, he promised we would go see the sunrise over the mountains. I spent weeks planning the perfect gift. He forgot the date entirely. “It’s just a day. Why do you have to be so dramatic about it?” But for Chloe’s birthday, he booked a restaurant a month in advance, bought her extravagant gifts, and posted a photo of them together with the caption: “Happy birthday to the most important person in my life.” All those memories, coupled with the scene in front of me now… I was done. I should have walked away a long time ago. As I turned to leave, Dan’s voice followed me. “She’s probably just got pre-wedding jitters. Don’t mind her, she’s not well…” How kind of him to make excuses for me. Through the glass window, I saw him take Chloe’s hand and feed her an almond crisp. They were the ones who looked like the happy couple. That evening, I received a voice message from Dan. “Elara, stop being angry.” “I’m so busy with work, and I have to take care of both of you. Can’t you be more understanding?” “We’re going to be married soon. I need you to be more mature.” He was slightly drunk, rambling on and on. I didn’t bother listening to the rest. He had it so hard. So I decided to make it easy for him. I would remove the burden completely. 2 The day before the wedding, Dan finally broke. “Elara,” he said over the phone, his voice tight with anxiety, “you’ve… confirmed all the final arrangements, right?” I made a soft sound of agreement as I packed my suitcase for the trip to Aspen Ridge. “Yes, I’ve gone over everything.” He let out a sigh of relief. “Good… that’s good…” “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.” The next morning, I put on my wedding dress. It wasn’t the one Dan had picked. I heard a car pull up outside, and then my phone rang. “Elara,” Dan said, his words rushed. “Chloe twisted her ankle. I’m taking her to the hospital now, so I can’t pick you up.” “You go on ahead to the venue. It’s just a formality, anyway. I’ll meet you there later.” “Okay,” I replied calmly. He paused, as if sensing something was wrong. “You’re… not angry, are you?” “No. You do what you need to do.” After I hung up, Dan let out a relieved breath and turned to Chloe in the passenger seat. “Does it hurt a lot? Just hold on, we’re almost there.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault, making you late to pick up your bride…” He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Don’t say that. You’re hurt. Of course I’m going to take care of you.” But a seed of doubt had been planted in his mind. My calm acceptance felt… wrong. Maybe she’s finally come around, he thought. She knows she’s the one I’m marrying. I’ll make it up to her on the honeymoon. At the Golden Shores Resort, Dan’s family and friends had all arrived. But the bride’s side of the venue was completely empty. Dan arrived with Chloe on his arm. A knot of panic tightened in his stomach. No… she couldn’t have missed the change of address, could she? The thought was terrifying. He dialed my number, but it went straight to voicemail. He checked his watch again and again, his face growing paler by the minute. Finally, I picked up. “Elara, where are you?” he yelled, his voice frayed with panic. “The guests are all waiting!” I looked out the window at the swirling snow. “I’m already here.” The wedding march began to play in the chapel, signaling my entrance. Dan froze. “Where are you? I don’t see you.” I held the phone up. “Listen.” The soaring notes of the wedding hymn drifted through the line, mingled with the sound of the wind. He went rigid, his voice trembling. “You’re… you’re at Aspen Ridge?” “Are you crazy? I changed the venue!” A small smile touched my lips. “I know.” He was stunned into silence. “What do you mean, you know? You knew and you went there anyway? Why are you being so stubborn? This is our wedding, Elara! You didn’t even tell me!” “Did you tell me when you changed it?” My question left him speechless. “The beach is so romantic! I wanted it to be a surprise! Why can’t you appreciate what I was trying to do for you?” I smiled. In the distance, a man was waiting for me. “I don’t understand. And I don’t need to anymore.” “I’m getting married, Dan. Goodbye.” I hung up and handed the phone to my best friend, Tessa. Dan called again and again, but the line would never connect. A suffocating tightness gripped his chest, and tears burned his eyes. Getting married? To who? He finally understood. This time, I was truly done. His parents walked over, their faces etched with confusion. “What’s going on? Where’s Elara? Didn’t you go get her?” Tears swam in Dan’s eyes. He didn’t know how to explain. Leo, standing beside him as his best man, finally put the pieces together. “I told you not to push it this far, but you wouldn’t listen…” “It’s a wedding, man. You can’t just change the venue and not tell her. You can’t blame her for not showing up.” He paused, a look of dawning horror on his face. “I think… I saw her at a bridal shop with another guy a while back. I thought I was seeing things. But… I think she just married someone else.” Dan’s parents stared at him in disbelief, then grabbed his arm. “You foolish boy! What are you standing here for? Go get your wife back!” Dan’s eyes were red as he turned to Chloe. “Chloe, come with me to Aspen Ridge! Now!” She pulled her hand away, her expression wounded. “But my ankle still hurts… and what’s the point? She’s already…” “She’s my bride!” Dan roared. “I won’t let her marry anyone else!” “You have to be there! You have to explain to her that there’s nothing between us!”

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